


Just Like Heaven

by Monbanart



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: A defensive ergonomic ball chair, Alpha Arthur, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, An utter bastard of a coffee maker, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Barebacking, Depression, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, No hamsters were harmed by Merlin's thought process, Omega Merlin, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Sciencey Science, Self-Harm, Underage Drinking, and all the weird that goes with that, eventual bottom!!Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-11-19 18:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 84,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11318790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monbanart/pseuds/Monbanart
Summary: Merlin finds out he's an Omega, having no idea what that means in a world that has forgotten they exist.  He finds navigating this new world a whole lot more painful than he could have ever imagined.





	1. This Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers:
> 
> Tragically, I do not own these characters.
> 
> Also, I did a lot of google research for this, so I'm sure there are upsettingly glaring errors in my sciencey science. My sincere apologies to actual sciencey scientists.
> 
> Notes of Thanks:
> 
> Unicorn SparkleFarts - You are the wind in my sails. You kept me sane (as sane as possible) through this entire ordeal and I owe you donuts. You're the world's greatest cheerleader, and I love you. 
> 
> [clotpolesonly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/clotpolesonly) \- bless your gorgeous soul for cheering me on, dealing with my daily anxiety attacks, patting my hair when things got hard, and having my beta!back, bruh.
> 
> [Pelydryn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Pelydryn) \- Endless thanks for the use of your glorious hammer. Again.
> 
> Trista - The love of my life and breath of my soul - you, my space princess, are my hero. Thank you for coming to my aid in my time of need, Obi Wan. You are my only hope.
> 
> Jeff - Shut up, you whore. This is for me, but carries so much of US in it that it's for you too. Bitch.
> 
> Work title and all chapter titles are songs by The Cure. You don't have to listen if you don't want to, but you'll be sorry if you don't.

**Prologue**

**September 21, 2013.**

He drew the head of the electric razor slowly down the length of his throat clearing away the last of the unwanted stubble beyond the borders of his beard. It had been trimmed short this morning, the way Arthur liked it.

Today was an important day and he wanted to look his absolute best.

Wiping away the remnants of his grooming with a towel, Merlin stood back to take in his full reflection. His black hair and beard coupled with the paleness of his skin made his eyes, almost sky blue in the garish bathroom lighting, stand out.  _ Like the promise of summer days held captive.  _ He smiled, recalling the first time he had heard those words. Freya had said them long ago and his heart swelled momentarily at the thought of her. No matter how much had changed over the years, no matter how different things had turned out for both of them, he would always love her.

His gaze drew down over his bare torso then, taking in the long and lean lines of his muscles. The memory of competitive swimming as a teen lived on in the shape of his body. His chest, however, had matured over the years and was now dusted with soft black hair that matched the narrow line of hair appearing at his navel and disappearing into the fluffy fold of the towel slung low, which partially covered his hipbones, scored with dozens of pale lines.

With a sigh, Merlin pulled the towel away and let it puddle around his bare feet on the tiled floor. The lines on his hips marched in orderly columns over his thighs, equal in length and evenly spaced. Years of self-hatred were marked there in careful tallies; One for each cycle of his misery, one for each day of pain.

He eyed the electric razor with which he had just finished his grooming, an absolute necessity for him, and closed them again as a flash of desire and fear flickered through him. His scars had faded into pale white lines after years of therapy and medication, but he would never forget the feeling of release that came from cutting. It was as if the blood welling from his skin could replace the tears falling from his eyes and ease the clenching pain in his chest.

Reopening his eyes, he forced his gaze back to the marks on his body and ran his palms firmly over them. They did not define him and he did not let them control him any longer but they were a part of who he had been and would always be - he had learned to love them with time.

Mentally shaking himself, Merlin opened the medicine cabinet and splashed out his favourite aftershave into his palms and gave his throat and cheeks a brisk rub. He gave a quick spray of deodorant to his underarms and moved on to his toothbrush and paste. As he scrubbed away remnants of his morning coffee breath and breakfast, he eyed the small silver capped vial on the shelf next to the pill bottles.

Spitting a mouthful of minty foam into the sink, he filled the tumbler on the counter with fresh water to take his morning medication. There was one for his depression and another for anxiety. He popped an anti-inflammatory as well for the ache in his knee. Injuries from his school days crept back into his life now and then as he aged and today of all days he couldn’t have a limp, no matter how slight. He’d be on his feet all day with all eyes on him.

He pulled down the vial from the shelf last. It was nearly empty; holding a single dose. He pulled open the drawer of the bathroom vanity and opened the box of syringes. Only one left there, too. Tearing open the alcohol swab packet, wiping the familiar spot on his belly and drawing the dose into the syringe his lips curved into a small smile.

After today he would be free.

With a broad smile he pinched the skin of his belly with one hand as he injected the dose with the other. He capped the needle and tossed it into the yellow biohazard waste box with the rest. Today was the start of a new life for Merlin.

Today he was marrying Arthur Bloody Pendragon.

  
****


	2. Boys Don't Cry

**May 2001**

Towelling off at the edge of the swimming pool, Merlin caught Will’s eye and nodded to him. It was Will’s fifteenth birthday and he had made the universal sign for drinks at his best friend from the entryway of the pool. Merlin smiled to himself as he entered the change room to shower and dress after his practise. Will had managed to persuade his older cousin to procure the booze for the party at his house that evening and Merlin was anxious to get the celebrations started.

Walking out of the change room with his bag and towel slung over his shoulder, he called out to his waiting friend, “I’ve gotta run this stuff home, yeah? I’ll meet you at yours by six.”

Will nodded with an enthusiastic thumbs up as he bolted toward his locker to gather his things to head home. Merlin chuckled quietly to himself as he watched his best mate in the world trip over his own feet in haste. Half of their class had been invited to Will’s party in the hopes that his secret crush would come. Vivian was by far the most popular girl they knew, and she had tossed her blonde curls sweetly at Will’s blushing invite and said she’d think about it.

The wind dried his hair in wild licks of curl as he walked home and his mother smiled warmly at the state of him. “How was practice, my love?” she asked as he shook out his damp suit and towel over the railing of their small garden.

“Alright, actually. I beat my own best time for lengths today. Coach said he wants me to lead the relay next week.” He let out a loud breath with the gravity of the news. Seeing the delight on his mother’s face he then broke into a brilliant smile.

“Merlin! That’s wonderful!” she said turning toward the kitchen, “All of those hours of pool time rather than video games have paid off! Tea?” she hollered as Merlin bounded up the stairs to his room, two at a time.

“No thanks, Mum!” he shouted as he shucked his shoes and yanked off his shirt. “I’m off to Will’s tonight, remember? It’s his birthday party!”

He pulled various items out of his closet, tossing them haphazardly toward the bed. Will might be vying for the attention of Vivian this evening, but Merlin had his eye on his lovely neighbour, Gwen.

She had the most beautiful brown eyes he had ever seen and when she turned them to look at him, poor Merlin’s brains melted down his spine. He wanted to look sharp tonight. Not just skinny old Merlin from two doors down. But Merlin the dark, mysterious neighbour she’d never truly noticed before.

Twenty minutes later he bounded back down the stairs in a pair of slim cut dark wash jeans and a black tee shirt. He understood that with his pale complexion and dark hair he looked best dressed in dark clothes.

Hunith looked at her son with misty eyes as she saw in him the man he would become rather than the gangly teen he was. “You’ll take her breath away.” 

Merlin blushed a sweet rose as he kissed his mother’s cheek and murmured thanks.

“I’m staying over at Will’s, so don’t wait for me. I’ll stay to help tidy up in the morning.”

“Have fun and wish him a happy birthday from me. And Merlin?” she called as he stepped through the door. Turning back to her with quizzical eyes, she said, “I might go visit Uncle Gaius if he’s up for the company. If I’m not here in the morning, call me there when you get home. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Tell Gaius hello from me!” he shouted from the pavement as he headed toward Gwen’s house.

The door to her small house opened as Merlin approached and time stopped. He stood frozen to the spot listening to the blood hammer in his ears, as she stepped out into the evening light. Her typically wild curly hair was loosely tied up in a knot with soft tendrils falling about her face and neck. The narrow straps of her sundress showed the delicate wings of her collarbones and Merlin wanted nothing more than to touch the soft brown skin there. She wore minimal make up, but what little shimmer she did wear, made her eyes sparkle when she smiled at him.

“Are you alright, Merlin?” She peered into his face, suddenly concerned for her friend who stood staring at her with his mouth slightly open.

Swallowing his embarrassment, he smiled brightly. “Yeah, I was just trying to figure out how you managed to tame that bird’s nest you call hair.” She playfully smacked the back of his arm and they headed off toward Will’s house with a quiet chuckle.

They’d been neighbours and friends since their preschool years and until puberty had hit, gracing him with rangy limbs with knobby elbows and knees and her with gentle curves and soft looking places, he had considered her almost like a sister. Now he found himself having quite unbrotherly thoughts and feelings about Gwen, and if he weren’t terrified of her actual brother Elyan, he would be tempted to behave a little less brotherly toward her.

Once at Will’s house, they helped him move the basement furniture against the walls. Gwen selected the playlist for the evening and swayed her hips gently as she poured bags of crisps into bowls and set out various sweets and snack foods. Merlin and Will had set themselves to task with the drinks. They set out cups and bottles of pop for mixing next to the bottles of vodka, rye, and gin procured by Will’s cousin for the event. There were also two cases of beer on hand. Apparently, Will had no desire to remember turning fifteen, but Merlin remembered that he was four days away from leading the team at the swim meet and silently swore to himself he’d only have three beers.

By 10pm, Merlin’s three beers were gone, as well as three quarters of a mystery beverage in a red plastic cup that Will had handed to him. It tasted more like petrol than the Coca Cola Will had promised was also in the cup. Merlin’s cheeks were pink, his dance moves loose and his laughter loud. All in all, he was having a great time.

Gwen was giggling nearby with some girls Merlin recognised from school, but didn’t know their names. She glanced over at him and laughed sweetly when she saw him looking at her. She nodded over to a dark corner of the basement, Merlin turned to follow her gaze. Apparently Will and Vivian were doing their best to lick each other’s tonsils. When Merlin turned his eyes back toward Gwen she had suddenly appeared right in front of him.

“Oh,” he said breathlessly as she giggled again. “Hey,” he said and snorted into his cup to hide his blush.

She had been dancing earlier with a red gauzy scarf someone had dropped and stood on her tiptoes to loop it around his neck. She leaned slightly into his chest as she did and he lazily snaked an arm around her waist to steady himself.

“You’d look good dancing in red,” she breathed into his ear.

He was barely aware of it happening, but by the time his brain had registered that she was kissing him, her lips were suddenly gone. He was left swaying in her wake as she danced away without glancing back at him. With trembling fingers he touched his lips to be sure that they were in fact still part of his face and swallowed deeply when he found them not only still firmly attached, but also slightly tacky from her strawberry gloss — proof that he had not imagined it.

“Oh,” he said breathlessly once more.

Something akin to panic swelled within his chest and he felt suddenly claustrophobic in the sweaty throng of classmates in Will’s basement. He pulled the scarf away from his throat and dropped it carelessly to the floor along with his nearly empty cup of swill and headed for the stairs.

He vaguely heard someone call his name behind him, but he needed out, air, space, something. He had walked halfway home in the moonlight before he was even aware that he had left the party without stopping to say goodnight to Will or even put on his shoes. The night felt like it was strangling him and he just wanted to get home where he could have whatever meltdown he was apparently having, in the privacy of his bedroom.

He yanked off his stained socks and ran across the lawns then, desperate for the sanctuary of home.

“Mum??” he hollered out before remembering that she had said she would likely be out. He peered into the darkness of the garage and confirmed that her car was indeed gone.

_ Good _ , he thought,  _ I can lose my shit loudly. _

He took a deep cleansing breath, filling his sinuses with the comforting smells of home, and screamed at the top of his lungs. He gasped and choked, but screamed again and again until his throat was raw and his voice broken. He felt full and hollow at the same time, gasping to fill the void with air and screaming to purge whatever it was that made him feel like he was bursting.

After an agonising eternity he fell to his knees in the living room, panting and curling his fists and bare toes in the ugly shag carpeting his mother seemed to adore. His skin was hot and itchy, like a desert crackling under the heat of the sun.

Dragging his shirt off over his head, Merlin gasped at the sensation — the soft cotton of his top felt like barbed wire as it slid over his back. He stripped rapidly, needing to be free of the torture of his clothing against his skin.

With trembling hands he gently probed at his torso, finding his skin hot and painful to the touch, the sunburn from hell. He moaned in pain as he forced himself to stand and climb the stairs to the bathroom between his room and his mother’s.

_ A cool bath,  _ he thought to himself, recalling the advice his Uncle Gaius had given his mother when he’d burnt himself at the beach a few summers ago. His skin crawled with an itch he couldn’t shake. He turned the cold water on full and plugged the drain.

Crawling into the tub on hand and knees, Merlin splashed the cold water over himself yelping out at the abruptness of the temperature change. By the time there was enough water to sit in partially submerged, his teeth chattered, but he could still feel his skin prickling as if it was trying to crack open so he could crawl out of its shell. He began a hard shiver, muscles torn with the war raging between the temperature of his body and the bath water.

The bath provided little relief and he pulled the plug and grabbed the towel off the rack. He draped it around his shoulders and shivered at his reflection in the mirror. His face was flushed, which he had expected, but what caught him off guard were his eyes.

His pupils were blown so wide the blue of his irises was nearly invisible. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Drugs.”

He cursed Will for the contents of his mystery red cup and figured he had better sleep off this fever high before his mother came home.

He crawled into bed and wrapped his arms around his legs and continued to shiver violently as he broke out in a sweat. He tossed and turned, Will’s name amongst the profanity on his lips with each change in position, for what felt like years.

He must have fallen asleep because he was suddenly jerked awake by a sensation deep in his gut he could not ignore. Not quite the cramping feeling he knew from a bad meal or a stomach bug gone rogue, but more like a pulsating sensation that drew heat from his fever burning him at the core. His guts throbbed and burned and he writhed against his sheets with a low moan. His body rocked with an urgent and painful  _ need _ .

Stumbling from his bed he grabbed a baggy pair of sleep pants and struggled to force his body to cooperate in the simple task of putting them on. There had to be something in the house to satisfy the pulse of his guts and cool the fire on his skin.

He dragged the door to his room open and squinted sharply against the bright light of morning streaming through the window above the staircase. His mind was fogged with pain and thirst and the aching nameless need of his body.

He heard noises in the room before him but his vision was obscured with flashing lights and dark spots. He could hear his breath, ragged and laboured, and the pulse in his guts echoed through his ears and he could not hear his mother or the concern in her voice as she called his name.

There seemed to be too many stairs, or too few, he wasn’t sure. He just felt himself falling toward her voice before the darkness swallowed him whole.

~O~

His hand was trapped.

It wasn’t painful, but there was something there, holding on. He wiggled an experimental finger and the grip tightened.

“Merlin?” asked a small and terrified voice.

His brows drew slowly together, as if asking,  _ who wants to know? _

The grip on his hand lessened and was replaced with a brisk chafing, as if someone was trying to start a fire using his hand as kindling.

“Come on, love. Wake up,” coaxed his mother’s voice.

He swallowed hard, finding his tongue thick and lazy, and cracked open one eye. It was gummy and blurred from oversleeping and his vision struggled for focus. As the second eye peeled open through the haze his mother’s face came into focus. She looked as exhausted as he felt but much more frightened.

“Mm,” he croaked, trying to get his mouth to cooperate but everything felt slow and hazy, as if he were suspended in honey. “Mum,” he tried again, “Where’m I?”

“In hospital, love. You’re okay now. We had to get your temperature down and run some tests. You’re alright. Once the doctor has seen you, I’m sure we’ll be on our way home.”

She smiled sweetly, as if seeing him awake had lifted the weight of the world from her shoulders.

Merlin looked down at himself, at the tubes coming from the IV port on his arm, and his hand grasped tightly in his mother’s. The sheets on the bed were worn with constant washing, but at one time had featured bright animals which were mimicked in cheery acrylic paint around the walls of the small room.

_ Fucking hell _ , he thought,  _ the pediatric ward _ .

He had had his tonsils out at the age of five and recalled a similar room from that time. He was mortified that at the age of fourteen he was still considered a child. He distantly thought,  _ there had better be goddamned chocolate popsicles at least. _

He lifted his free hand, slowly and with great effort, to rub over his face and through his hair. He grimaced at the feel of grime between his fingers as he combed them through his curls.

“Ugh. How long have I been here? I stink,” he said as he caught a whiff of himself from his raised arm. He was filled with sudden urgency as he realized he’d been there more than overnight. “I’m starting the relay, Mum! I have to be ready!”

Hunith stood to hold his shoulder down as he struggled to sit up and to quiet him. “Shh, Merlin, it’s alright. I’ve spoken to the coach. He came by earlier. It’s alright,” she said again. “There will be other competitions, other opportunities to shine.” She smiled warmly.

Fighting back tears of panic, Merlin relaxed under her firm touch. With a quiet tremble he asked again, “How long?”

She took a deep breath before answering. “Six days since you collapsed at home. It’s Friday, love. You slept through the meet.” Her voice was full of sympathy as he dropped his head on the pillow in defeat and let out a sob.

“Wait.” His eyebrows leapt up under his fringe. “I collapsed? I was at Will’s house, right? What happened to me?”

Hunith’s expression changed slightly to one Merlin had never before seen. It was apologetic and remorseful, as if she had been the cause of his illness.

“Merlin,” she started quietly, “there are things I need to tell you. About who you are. Where you come from. But not here, alright? Let’s get home first, and Gaius and I will try to answer every question you’ll have. I promise.”

He looked at her, feeling panic well up once more, as if she were a stranger to him. “What happened to me?” he shouted, startling her to take her hands off him.

At that moment the door to his room swung open as a large man entered. “Whoa, there, kiddo,” he chimed at Merlin, who instantly bristled at his condescension. “Glad to see you’re awake! I’m Percival, your nurse. I’m just going to take your vitals before I page in The Boss Lady, alright?” He was like a chipper mountain, Merlin thought. “Can you excuse us for a moment, Mum?” he asked Hunith with a bright smile.

“Of course, dear. Merlin.” She turned her gaze from the gentle giant to meet her son’s eyes again. “I’ll be just outside. I’m going to ring Gaius and let him know you’re awake. Be back in a minute.” She patted his hand again before leaving him at the mercy of the wall of human before him in pale blue scrubs.

“Alright, champ, let’s get you sitting up,” Percival said as he thumbed the button controls on the outside of the rail of Merlin’s bed. He grouchily adjusted his position and pillows as the bed raised him to a less awkward angle.

Percival clipped something to the tip of one finger, wrapped his bicep in a tight cuff and stuck a thermometer in Merlin’s mouth with practised precision before speaking again. “You look like you could use a shower, eh? And probably a chocolate popsicle.” He winked.

“Fuck, yes,” Merlin replied as soon as his mouth was free. Percival jotted down his temperature and blood pressure with a smile.

“I’ll make sure you’re well looked after before you go. I’m pretty certain she’ll dismiss you now that you’re up. It’s been a long week for your mum, though, pal. I don’t think she’s slept more than twenty minutes at a time. Go easy on her when you get home. You’ll both be relieved, but easily agitated.”

Merlin reached forward as Percival turned to leave, catching the edge of his scrubs top. “Was it drugs?” he whispered.

“Pal,” he turned back with a sympathetic gaze. “I don’t know. I know they ran all sorts of tests; blood, an MRI, and a couple of ultrasounds. But your results are all under lock and key. Nobody but Doctor Nimueh and Doctor Greene have seen them. I just come in, take your vitals, jot them down, try to feed your mum something more than coffee, dose your meds into the IV and leave again. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” he whispered, fingering the faded giraffe on the edge of his blanket, “for taking care of her for me.” He looked up and tried a smile, finding it difficult to hold back the tears in his eyes.

Percival nodded gently and paused by the door to say, “I’ll be back in a flash with the popsicle and the stuff for your shower.”

Merlin closed his eyes as the door slipped closed behind him and exhaled loudly. He tried to get out of bed but found more tubes coming out of him below the thin gown he wore, taped to the side of the bed. He rolled forward to peek over the edge and found a half full bag of his own piss hanging there.

He lifted the hem of his gown and saw the tube was taped to the inside of his thigh and was coming out of —

_ Oh god. A catheter. IN MY DICK. _

His silent mortification was cut short as the door swung open again and one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen walked in followed closely by his mother. He grabbed the sheet and yanked it to his chest with a squeak of indignity.

With cool professionalism, the woman proceeded as if she hadn’t seen the previous three seconds of Merlin’s life, but met his panicked eyes with her own, deep blue and enchanting. Merlin swallowed hard and almost forgot his embarrassment. Her dark brown hair was pulled away from her face, but loose around her shoulders. She wore a red and blue pant suit under her white physician’s jacket. 

“Hello, Merlin. I’m Doctor Nimueh.”

“Hi,” he tried, hoping to hell it hadn’t been her who had inserted the catheter or her who would be the one to remove it.

She smiled gently at him, like she was looking at a newborn fawn, which made Merlin twitch uncomfortably. “I’m glad to see you awake and fever free, Merlin. You’ve certainly been an interesting case for me, but I will be turning your care from here forward into the capable hands of Doctor Greene as per your mother’s wishes.”

She hooked the ear pieces of her stethoscope into her ears and gently urged Merlin forward so she could listen through his back, then let him fall back to listen to his chest. She smiled kindly and mouthed the word relax to him, as he was certain his heart was trying to break its way through his ribcage at her proximity.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath trying to center himself. When that didn’t seem to work, she simply patted his shoulder and moved away to sign his release forms.

“I’ll have Percival come back to remove your IV and catheter and get you set for a shower before you head home. But, my dear Merlin, you are free. It’s been an absolute pleasure to have had you in my care.” She smiled sweetly at him, then again at his mother. Hunith took her hand between hers and offered her thanks for all she had done over the last several days.

As Doctor Nimueh passed through the door, Percival re-entered carrying a bag labelled “Personal Belongings” with Merlin Emrys scrawled in his mother’s handwriting beneath it, a fluffy towel, a bottle of All-in-One hair and body wash, and a chocolate popsicle.

He winked at Merlin before turning to Hunith and asking if she minded giving him the privacy to get Merlin unhooked from his various tubes. She nodded politely and gave her son’s hand a squeeze before following the doctor into the hallway.

Holding the popsicle out to Merlin, Percival said, “You take care of this while I take care of you, deal?”

He took in a shaky breath, overwhelmed with the last half hour of his life, held out a hand to take the treat and smiled. “Deal.” 

He unwrapped the popsicle and tried not to watch as Percival set out on the bed next to him a ball of cotton, a plaster, and some packets of alcohol swabs taken from the supply trolley in the corner of his room.

“Percival?” he asked shyly. When the massive nurse turned his bright blue eyes to look into Merlin’s with raised brows, he continued with a glance to his groin, “How do you get it out?”

“The tape on your leg will be the worst of it, I promise.” He smiled kindly. “It’s not painful, or even really uncomfortable. But it won’t be your favourite part of today, and for that I’m sorry, pal.”

He deftly unhooked the IV tubing from the port in Merlin’s arm as he spoke, placed the cotton over the small entry wound before pulling it swiftly out and disposing it on the small tray on the trolley. “Finger, please,” he said as he let go to open and apply the plaster. “Finish up that popsicle and I’ll get the bed flat again for you. It’ll be better for you if you don’t watch.”

He smiled sympathetically at Merlin then, and turned to dispose of the odds and ends of his IV removal, allowing him the comfort of a moment’s privacy to steel himself for the next step. Once the bed was level again and Merlin laid back with his eyes closed and his jaw clenched tight, Percival moved the gown back enough just to expose the tape across the tube on his thigh.

“Remember, Merlin. This will be the worst part, okay?” And before Merlin could nod his head he tore away the adhesive strips and pressed his hand firmly against his thigh to ease the burning sensation.

Merlin breathed deeply through his nose and bit his lips, but didn’t cry out in pain.

“The good news is, you’ve not got hairy legs like most blokes,” he said as he soothed the area with the alcohol swabs, removing pesky remnants of adhesive on his skin.

“I swim,” was Merlin’s quiet reply. Feeling Percival’s motions pause, he opened one eye and clarified, “I shave. For competitive swimming.”

“Ah, well. That explains that!” he said cheerily. He glanced at the tubing and back at Merlin’s face and smiled politely.

“Um. Are you going to take it out now?”

“Just waiting for you to finish up, pal.”

“Finish?” he asked, lifting his head to glance down the length of his torso.

“You’re peeing, mate. Pull it out now and you’ll have wet the bed. Definitely not how either of us wants this to go.”

Merlin dropped his head back to the pillow and put his hands over his face as he mouthed the words  _ Kill me now _ . Percival gave a low chuckle and reminded him that this was far from the worst part of a nurse’s job.

Merlin felt Percival take the tubing in one hand and press a small flannel against his crotch with the other and braced himself for pain. “You’re done, kiddo. You okay?”

“Done? But it didn’t feel like anything.” Merlin popped his eyes open in surprise.

“Well, I could put it back in and yank it out fast if you wanted to feel it. But it’s out, and you didn’t feel it, and if I were you, I’d be saying, ‘Thanks Perce! You’re the best at not inflicting pain on my genitals!’ and heading for the showers.” His shoulders shook with his laughter and Merlin found himself laughing along with him.

“Alright, alright. Lead the way to the showers before my stink gets any worse.”

~O~

Hunith didn’t speak of anything of any importance in the car on the way home and Merlin was too sullen to do any more than stare hatefully out of the window. He’d missed an entire week of his life and his mother was keeping secrets and he’d had to endure personal mortification at the hands of an incredibly huge male nurse. She’d prattled on for a while about how Will and Gwen had come to visit him, and some of the guys from the swim team, and everyone would be so glad to have him back, but Merlin just wanted answers she was clearly not ready to give him.

What was it Doctor Nimueh had said? An interesting case. Percival said his test results were under lock and key. Doctor Greene was taking over his care at his mother’s request. And his mother. What had she said? Who he was and where he had come from.

_ Great, I’m a fucking alien or some shit. _

As they pulled up to the house, he could see his Uncle Gaius’s car in the driveway. Doctor Gaius Greene, that is. The man with answers to what the fuck was going on, apparently.

Merlin leapt out of the car the moment it was parked and slammed the door as he stalked toward the front door. Hunith let out a slow breath before exiting the car behind him and readied herself for the confrontation about to happen. But Merlin wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of a scene.

He held his tongue and made himself physically comfortable in the wing back chair of the small living room of his home. He watched his mother quietly hang her light jacket and purse on the hook inside the door with tension in her shoulders.

_ Good,  _ he thought,  _ be uncomfortable. I’m uncomfortable, too. _

His uncle Gaius emerged from the kitchen with a tray set with tea for three on it and sat on the end of the sofa nearest to Merlin. His mother sat next to Gaius. He simply stared at them, willing them to be the first to speak.

He could wait all night.

They owed him truths without his prompting. Allowing them to simply answer his questions would leave too much room for omission. Merlin decided to stay silent and wait them out.

Gaius served the tea in silence, tension fluttering in the muscles beneath his jowls. Merlin glared at him, pouring out tea with his long grey hair swinging forward in an attempt to put a screen between them. Merlin knew he had been a hippie in his younger years, and that most of his medical practise had been relatively holistic in nature. Whatever it was that had happened to Merlin drew his elderly uncle back to the bright lights of a big hospital and to work as part of a team with a young and vibrant doctor like Nimueh.

Yet as he had left the room to head for the shower with Percival, Merlin noticed he was in a private pediatric hospital. No wards, just a few individual rooms. Percival appeared to have only Merlin as his charge. He doubted his friends and teammates had been permitted to visit him there as his mother had said. He hid a small huff of laughter at the realization. 

_ Great, more lies _ .

He leaned forward to take his mug of tea from the coffee table before him when he glanced at his mother’s anxious face. Her eyes were red rimmed and tears fell silently down her face. 

_ Fuck me. Not an alien. I’m fucking dying _ .

He froze in place with his eyes locked on hers. Suddenly he wasn’t so keen on having the answers. His hand trembled and he laid the mug back down without having taken a sip. He couldn’t tear his eyes from hers and he felt the hot sting of his own tears prickling into existence.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, plaintively. “I didn’t know.”

He swallowed back against the lump rising in his throat and noticed that Gaius reached back to take his mother’s hand in his, a gesture of support and reassurance.

Nobody was holding his hand. Merlin felt like he was drifting into space with nothing to ground him. Still he would not speak. Let them say it. He needed to hear it.

Gaius turned to him then, and laid a hand on Merlin’s knee. That grounding touch he’d craved a moment ago feeling suddenly like a concrete block holding him under water. He stood abruptly to rid himself of the sensation and started pacing back and forth in front of his chair, stabbing the occupants of the sofa with a hateful gaze.

“My boy,” began Gaius in an even and soothing tone, causing Merlin’s sharp stare to pin him in place, but not deterring him from continuing. “You suffered an incredibly high fever, causing you to experience a febrile seizure — the collapse your mother witnessed on Saturday morning past. You were kept in a controlled coma for the last five days while we attempted to diagnose the cause of the fever and treat it. Several tests were run and a conclusion drawn.”

He paused there, likely hoping Merlin would stop staring through him and either ask a question or sit back down. He did neither and with a deep swallow, Gaius continued.

“Once I had determined the highly unusual circumstances of your illness and decided it would be best to keep your care as private as possible as it is of a sensitive nature.”

At that, Merlin’s murderous glare turned to his mother’s pitying face.

“My love, you — you’re—” She took a breath and spread her hands flat against her knees as if to stop them from trembling. “That is, we, you and I, I mean, well. We are unique,” she breathed out suddenly. “Your father and I, we had hoped it wouldn’t pass on. We believed it hadn’t. And it’s been so very many years since I thought of it, since he passed, and I just. Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry!” she wailed and reached a hand out to him.

“You’re sorry?” he asked with raised brows, ignoring her hand hanging expectantly between them.

“It’s rare, Merlin. Please understand,” Gaius continued for her. “It’s a genetic variation that has been dying out for centuries. Information is scarce, and studies simply do not exist. I am working blindly to examine the differences, but I have only your blood and your mother’s to work with. And as far as I have been able to determine, there has never in written history been a male born with the variation you appear to carry. You’re something of a miracle, my boy.”

“A miracle or a freak, Gaius? What the fuck is wrong with me?” His mother winced at his tone and use of language, but understood his rage and confusion.

“My darling boy, please,” she begged. She took a deep breath, steeling her nerves. “Gaius, show him his test results,” she said with resignation. “It will help us explain it if he can see.”

Gaius pulled a large folder from beneath the teapot on the tray, clearly labelled Emrys, Merlin — Male, 14yrs 5mos. He opened it and held out the first page for Merlin to take. “Initially your mother had thought you’d taken drugs or been drugged at Will’s party, so this is your tox screen. Completely clear, aside from a slightly elevated blood alcohol level, but nothing dire.”

Merlin glanced at his mother at that, slightly shamed for his indisputable underage drinking, but relieved it hadn’t been drugs. 

“From there, I ordered an MRI, fearing damage to the brain or a tumour. We scanned your entire body, searching for answers. Nothing at all came back remarkable, until this.” He paused, holding out another sheet of paper, marked with numbers and long clinical words next to some blurry grey and black images.

Merlin took it wordlessly and scanned the sheet for keywords that might help. The images could have been anything to him, but there was one phrase on the paper that caused his hands to tremble and drop the page – ‘Remarkable presence of healthy uterus and ovaries’.

“Naturally, this raised all sorts of questions, as you might imagine.”

Merlin’s only response to the absurdity of that phrase was a furrowed brow and wide eyes in the classic teenage expression known as  _ You Think?? _

Gaius ploughed ever forward then, handing Merlin yet another sheet of test results. “This discovery urged me to evaluate the portion of your scan that dealt with your testicles, to determine their health.”

At that Merlin dropped his gaze to the sheet in his hands, carefully reading every word, even the ones he didn’t understand. But all he needed to see was the line labeled Findings. It read, ‘Testes present, void of vascular tissue. Vas deferens absent.’

Merlin’s knees gave out and he sat abruptly on the floor. His hand clenched around the paper, wrinkling it but not tearing it. When he still didn’t speak, Gaius pressed on.

“When I explained the discovery to your mother she enlightened me about the rare genetic trait she carries, of which I had no prior knowledge, I assure you. I consulted Doctor Nimueh, a genetic and fertility specialist, and we had you moved to a private area. Only she and I had access to your MRI results. She ordered a full genetic screening of both you and your mother. We are still waiting on those results to come in. She will fax them directly to me.”

Merlin’s mind swirled with confusing information and more questions than he could have imagined possible. Nothing made sense to him. His mind scrabbled over information he’d learned in school during the sexual health classes which rioted against the information he’d just read about his own body.

Just short of hyperventilation, he burst into mildly hysterical laughter.  _ My bollocks are fucking decoration only. Bloody Christmas baubles,  _ he thought as he wiped tears from his eyes. “I’m a bloody fucking ugly as sin GIRL, aren’t I?” he cackled.

Hunith dropped to her knees in front of her son, grasping for his hands to still him. “Merlin, no. This isn’t a case of mixed gender identity. We are something else. Though I didn’t know it could happen to a boy, or I’d have prepared you better. We are almost like a different breed of human, like a small branch off the same family tree. While the majority of the world’s population are one, something called Beta, you and I are called Omega. There are Alpha as well, though I’ve not met one since your father died. I fear they’re gone. We are truly a dying breed, love. I thought it had ended with me. I believed you were Beta.”

She had tears falling from her eyes and her hands gripped his biceps painfully. He stared at her mouth, watching words tumble out that made no sense to him.

He had only ever heard dogs and wolves referred to as Alpha and Omega. What sort of twisted game was this? He started to laugh again, as if to finally clue in to the great joke being played on him.

“So, what, the crazy fever was me going into heat like a bitch?”

Yet, as he said the words he recalled the throbbing in his guts, the fiery burn on his skin begging to be soothed with touch, and the desperate feeling of an unidentifiable need. Panic suddenly welled in him and he jumped to his feet.

He pulled frantically at his hair and screamed, “OH MY FUCKING GOD. I’M A FUCKING DOG! A FUCKING GIRL DOG!”

Gaius and Hunith both rushed forward to contain and reassure him that was not the case. “No, Merlin. Not a dog. A perfectly healthy Omega human boy.”

“But you said this shit didn’t happen to boys. I HAVE A UTERUS, MOTHER! EXPLAIN HOW THAT WORKS!”

“I don’t know, Merlin. Doctor Nimueh is analysing our DNA. I know very little about it – my mother wouldn’t speak of it, but that was her generation. Discussing sex wasn’t something you did, especially with your children. All I know about it at all is what your father explained to me when we met. He said that Alphas can mate with anyone, that they can impregnate both Beta humans and Omega humans. Betas can only impregnate other Betas. Omegas can only mate with Alphas, which is likely why I never felt the desire to remarry, now that I think about it. I think the reason the species is dying out is because only an Alpha/Omega pairing can produce Alpha and Omega offspring. Betas only make more Betas, even if impregnated by an Alpha...” she trailed off at that noticing the look of sheer horror on Merlin’s face.

“Stop. Saying. Impregnate. Mother.” Merlin covered his face with his hands and sat once again in the wing back chair he’d been in before. “Are you telling me I am supposed to MATE with another man, an Alpha, and get pregnant and have babies and I’m somehow NOT a bloody girl?? How is this even my life? Oh god. Da was an Alpha and you’re an Omega and I’ve won the fucking genetic freak show lottery, thanks very much. I mean, I don’t even have a fucking vagina, how is that supposed — OH MY GOD, IS MY UTERUS UP MY ARSE? BECAUSE I THINK I AM OFFICIALLY DEAD AND IN HELL.”

He was completely incapable of stopping the rambling coming out of his mouth. His poor mother was embarrassed, guilt ridden and worried that he’d never recover. Gaius patiently waited to the side for Merlin’s breathing to slow and the verbal diarrhea to firm up and constipate itself.

After a while he had quieted his mutterings and let his mother simply hold him. “Is going into heat always that bad?” he whispered to her.

“The first was my worst. I hope for your sake they aren’t always that bad.”

“Will it happen every month? Oh god, will I have a period?” he sniffed miserably.

“I don’t think so. My heat cycle and menstrual cycle were always separate. I only went into heat every four months. Just three times a year. Not so bad, really.”

“You don’t still go into heat, then?”

“They stopped after you were born. I’m not sure why. I think because your father died. After my Alpha was gone, I had no reason to continue cycling.” She wiped the tears and snot from her son’s face like he was a toddler again, using the corner of her long skirt.

“And there are no more Alphas? I won’t have to worry about it, right? Because I don’t want to get buggered by some bloke and have his babies. I just want a normal life.”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I’ve never met another since your father.”

“How would I know if I met one?”

“You’ll be able to smell him. Betas smell like soap and detergent and shampoo. An Alpha will smell unbearably good to you. Sweet and sharp. You’ll be drawn to him, to his scent. It will make your mouth water. And he’d smell you too.”

“Really? What do I smell like?”

“You father said I smelled like summer to him, berries and flowers and sunshine. I can’t smell another Omega, but I hope you smell as lovely as your father said I do.” A small smile curled in the corners of Hunith’s mouth as she recalled her husband. “I wish he was here to answer your questions, too,” she whispered.

“Me too,” Merlin sobbed and threw his arms around her neck, crying openly into her soft brown hair.

Gaius had removed himself to the kitchen during their quiet heart to heart and ordered pizzas for delivery. It had been a long week, an even longer day, and he knew that cooking would be the very last thing on anyone’s mind.

The trio ate ravenously, as if the outpouring of emotion had drained them all of fuel. Merlin continued to ask questions, and between Hunith and Gaius, they managed to answer the majority of them before bed. Hunith had asked that her uncle stay the night with them, and made up the spare bed for him with fresh linens.

Before turning in, Gaius rapped gently on Merlin’s bedroom door and waited to be invited in.

Merlin had changed into a pair of clean sleep pants and an old phys. ed. uniform shirt, well-worn and frayed at the seams, and was sitting on his bed with his knees pulled up to his chest. His long toes curled and uncurled in his sheets, catching the fabric in bunches. He looked exhausted and hunted, but invited his uncle to sit on the end of his bed cheerily enough.

“Merlin,” he began quietly, “I had wondered since the discovery of your nature, but would not ask in front of your mother for the sake of your dignity.”

“Uncle Gaius, today I found out, in front of my mother mind you, that my balls are hollow, my arse is stuffed with a womb, I’m barely human and a freak at that, and smell like a bloody field of daisies to the hypothetical man who will want to stuff my arse full of his babies. And before that I was caught gawping at my privates stuffed with medical tubing by my mother and a very beautiful woman, and had that very same medical tubing yanked out of my privates by the largest man I’ve ever seen in my life who actually watched me pee through the tubes before removing them. I’m fairly certain we can safely say that I haven’t a shred of dignity left, so I’m not sure why you bothered to wait.”

Gaius pinked at the ears and looked down at his hands at that. “Yes. Well. Just so. This is one last indignity I wished to spare you after today’s revelations and if you wish to toss me out of your room without an answer, I completely understand.”

Merlin heaved a sigh at that and said, “Uncle Gaius, what amazingly embarrassing thing would you like to know?”

“It’s just that, a young man of your age would regularly indulge in self exploration but with your lack of seminal fluid I have to wonder, what is masturbation like for someone of your physical nature?”

Merlin turned about seven shades of red as Gaius spoke and cleared his throat loudly before answering, “Yes, well. I see. Thank you for not asking that in front of my mother, actually. I, uh. Um. I don’t know, I guess. I haven’t been inspired to, what was it? ‘Indulge in self exploration’.”

Gaius’s left eyebrow climbed into his hairline and he rocked back slightly. “I see. Interesting.” He steepled his fingers and appeared to be weighing his next words carefully. He stood and gently patted Merlin on the knee. “Thank you, my boy. I hope that Doctor Nimueh and I are able to provide care and answers as we move forward.”

“Uncle Gaius?” Merlin spoke quietly just as his uncle headed for the door. “I’m broken, aren’t I?”

“Not broken, Merlin. Simply, like no other before you.”

“Thanks.” 

Gaius nodded gently and closed the door behind him.

Merlin sat on his bed in silence, still clenching and unclenching his toes in the sheets, and tried to wrap his head around the insane information dropped on him in the last several hours. He scooted himself down, lying on his side in the fetal position, and thought back on his day and was morbidly amused to acknowledge that the catheter removal had actually been a highlight in retrospect. He thought about calling the hospital to tell Percival, but instead rocked himself gently back and forth and, as quietly as possible, cried himself to sleep.

~O~

After an awkwardly quiet breakfast with his mum and Gaius, Merlin retreated to his room to switch on his phone to text Will that he was home. Within seconds the phone vibrated as the notifications of a week of worried texts from friends and classmates poured in. Merlin sighed and deleted them all without reading them. He’d face everyone on Monday. Today he just wanted Will.

Merlin: Hey.

Will: WTF dude, ur still alive?

M: Barely. Walk?

W: Sure. C u in 10.

M: Bring the bag.

W: That bad? On it.

He tossed on some baggy jeans and a tee shirt and shoved his feet into his ratty old Converse. He rubbed away the sticky residue from the plaster on his arm and sighed at the sight of the bruise left behind by the IV. He just wanted to forget the last 24 hours and get on with his life.

Looking at himself in the bathroom mirror he sighed at the dark circles beneath his eyes and despaired at how pasty his skin looked. He’d always been pale, but now he looked nearly grey.

Content with the arrangement of his wild curls, he headed to the kitchen to grab some fresh fruit to toss into the small backpack he planned to carry on his walk with Will. He added two bottles of water and two cans of Coke.

“Heading out, love?” asked Hunith, suddenly standing in the doorway.

“Going to walk with Will for a bit. Clear my head and stuff. What?” he asked defensively as her face conveyed concern and disapproval.

“You’ve been flat on your back for a week, Merlin. You’re weak and need to rebuild your strength gently. Not to mention, I’m certain yesterday’s,” she hesitated, looking for the right word, “events,” she settled on, “have left you feeling off centre. I just don’t want you to rush things, or say something to Will you might regret.”

“I just want to hear about the week I missed, his birthday party, that I also mostly missed and need to apologise for, and just  _ be _ for a bit, yeah? Will lets me just be myself. I think I need that.”

She sighed and crossed the kitchen to her son, gently reaching up to touch his cheek. “You do. You’re right. I love you,” she whispered before pulling him softly down to kiss his forehead. “Please take your phone. Call me if you need me to come get you.”

Merlin gave her a soft smile to ease her worry, but internally cringed at the egg shells metaphorically scattered around him. How long before she stopped tip toeing around him, he wondered?

He headed out through his garden gate and spotted Will at the corner where they typically met before heading off on one of their walks. Merlin jogged the short distance to catch up, smiling as he saw Will crack the biggest grin ever at the sight of him. 

“Sweet Jesus, Merls. You look half dead.”

“I am half dead. Let’s go,” he said as he breezed past Will en route to their secret spot. Will frowned at his casual tone but hitched the backpack he’d brought up over his shoulder and followed.

“So?” he asked after a moment of silence wherein the boys fell naturally into step with one another.

“Not yet. Not here, okay?”

“Yeah, alright.”

Will sneaked a glance sideways at Merlin now and then, trying to gauge his mood and noticed he was slightly out of breath. He gradually slowed his pace and smiled when within seconds Merlin once again matched it.

They walked in silence through their neighbourhood and past their school to the football pitch behind it. Just beyond the pitch was a hole in the fence of the school property boundaries. Will held back the covering ivy for Merlin to pass through and followed. They headed to the abandoned storage shed across the small meadow — their place, hidden away and private, where they could talk, fight, smoke and drink without fear of being caught or overheard.

The walk had coloured Merlin’s cheeks, not with a pleasant healthy rose but with the blotchy red of hard exertion. He was breathing hard through his mouth and his hands trembled. He fumbled in his bag while Will set out the lawn chairs they’d stashed there a couple of summers ago, pulling out a bottle of water and an apple before sitting down hard.

“Christ, I hate this.” He looked into the distance across the field, avoiding the concerned look on Will’s face.

“You up for this, mate? I mean, we can just sit, if that’s better?” Will asked, pulling a small bag out of his larger backpack containing a few rolled joints.

“Just. Yeah. Let me catch my breath and eat a bit. Want one?” he held out a second apple, but Will shook his head and sat heavily in the chair next to his best mate. Polishing off the apple in about five massive bites, he tossed the core into the meadow.

He let out a heavy sigh and turned to look at Will for the first time since he joined him for their walk. He was saddened to see the concern on Will’s face. He must have been sick with worry all week long, and here he was, making him wait for answers.

“So,” he started, “what did they tell you?”

Will squinted at him slightly, trying not to be irritated with his sick friend. “That you had a fever from a virus and got moved to an ICU and we couldn’t see you.”

Merlin just nodded slightly as if pondering how much to say. He took a deep drink from his bottle of water before he spoke.

“The fever was right. But not the virus. I’m not really sick.” When Will’s expression changed from concern to anger, Merlin was quick to clarify, “But I couldn’t be seen, that part was right. Not while I was like that. They put me in a coma so they could figure out what the fever was from so I wouldn’t hurt myself.”

“Hurt yourself? What the fuck, man? Your mum said you had a seizure. Is it epilepsy? It can’t be a brain tumour because I’m positive you don’t even have a brain.”

Merlin smiled warmly at his friend and knocked on the top of his head. “Totally hollow. I use it for storage.” He leaned forward and took a joint from the bag between Will’s feet and dig for the lighter in the front pouch. “It’s not epilepsy either. The seizure was just from how high my fever got. I’m not dying, Will. I promise.”

He was pleased to see those last few words eased the tension in Will’s shoulders. Will knew that Merlin would tell him when he was ready. That’s just how their friendship worked. That’s why they had come here, to their place. This was where they shared the important things.

They passed the joint back and forth, enjoying the warmth in their lungs as well as the sun on their faces. When it was gone, Will pulled out the ratty old blanket he kept rolled up in the bag and laid it out on the soft grass before their chairs.

He lay down his back on one side, gazing up at the clouds above and waited for Merlin to join him. He lay down so that they were arranged head to toe, like always, and reached down to grab Will’s wrist between their bodies.

This was how they always found the courage to open up to one another over the years of anything that troubled them, be it Merlin’s understanding of his father’s death or the divorce of Will’s parents. They fell into the habit as kids, when after a game of tag had ended with Merlin grabbing Will’s hand and pulling him to the ground. They had lain there, in a field much like the one they found themselves in now, laughing and catching their breath, just holding on to one another’s arms. Once Will had caught his breath he squeezed Merlin’s hand and whispered that he gets scared when his parents fight. The quiet confession had startled Merlin, but he held on, not wanting Will to feel alone or ashamed. Ever since that day, they'd turned to one another that way. 

This was their place. This was their thing.

Will smiled to himself as Merlin settled into place and wrapped his fingers lightly around Merlin’s wrist in response. They were ready.

“I’m not dying but there’s no cure for what’s wrong with me,” he began quietly. “It’s sort of like a birth defect we never knew about until now.”

“Gross, dude. You have a tail. I knew it.”

“Shut your ugly face. I’m trying to tell you this shit, okay?”

“Sorry. Proceed, Oh Tailed One,” Will giggled.

Merlin sighed. “It’s to do with my bollocks, mate.” Will’s finger tips tightened slightly. “They. Um. Well.” Merlin let out a frustrated breath and stomped one foot on the ground.

“You’ve got three? Twelve? None?” Will tried to keep the mood light.

“They’re there. Both of them. But they’re not attached, Will. They’re just globs of useless tissue in my sack, and might as well be fuckin’ paperweights for all the use of them!” he whined pitifully.

Will laid still and processed this information for a moment. He listened to Merlin’s erratic breathing and tried to connect the dots between fever, self-harm, and empty nuts. “So,” he tried after a minute, “you fire blanks? Sterile? Condom free for life?”

“I guess if you wanted to throw a silver lining at the shambles that is my life, yeah. But I think it’s worse than that. There’s more, because in addition to useless balls...” Merlin trailed off there, unsure of what to say or how to word it. He brought his free hand up to yank at his hair in frustration. “I don’t think any of it works. I never thought about it until they started asking questions last night, but, Will, I mean, do you get erections?” he asked, clinging for dear life to his friend’s hand, needing the grounding touch as he bared his soul like this.

Will let out a long breath before answering and squeezed back just as hard. “Merlin, I wake up every day with a stiffy. I get at least two a day in class. I rub one out at least twice a day at home. And I’m pretty sure that’s how it is for everyone our age. Are you saying you don’t?” he lifted his head to look down his body at Merlin.

Merlin had taken his hand from his hair and covered his entire face with it obscuring his expression from Will. “Fuck.”

“Dude, what are you even saying? You can’t get it up? Fuck me. How does the crazy fever factor into all of this? I don’t get it.”

Merlin’s breath trembled and he uncovered his face. “Will, I have a really rare genetic mutation or something, apparently.” 

He relayed the details of last night’s events at home, trying to keep his breathing steady, his voice calm. As he spoke Will’s hand tightened over Merlin’s wrist, in shock, surprise, and disbelief. He let Merlin know that he was still there, and wasn’t going anywhere, but it took him a long time to formulate a response.

He sat up abruptly without letting go and waited until Merlin looked him full in the eyes.

“Merls,” he whispered. “Pregnant? By another guy,” he repeated, watching as Merlin chewed his lips and nodded. He blew out a deep breath and asked, “Are you gay?”

“I just tell you that I have a uterus and can get pregnant by a man and your first response is I must be gay? Jesus, the first thing I asked was if I’m actually a girl.”

“Nah, you’re far too ugly to be a girl. And hairy. Don’t forget, I’ve seen you in a speedo.”

“Thanks, mate. You always say the sweetest things. You really know how to flatter a lady.” Merlin deadpanned.

“Are you?”

“What?”

“The ugliest and hairiest girl I’ve ever met.”

Merlin sighed. “No. Mum assures me that I’m a perfectly healthy Omega boy.”

Will’s brows scrunched together. “Omega? Wait… like, Alpha and Omega?” Merlin’s brows shot up at that and he sat up to stare at Will as he nodded. “Like, werewolves?”

Merlin’s expression stormed over at that and he growled, “I’m not a fucking dog, William.”

“No, no, I know. But"—he held up a hand to indicate that Merlin should hear him out—“there’s a lot of stuff on the internet like that. Made up stuff on fan fiction websites, you know? People write stories about Alpha and Omega pairings all the time. I didn’t know it was real!”

Merlin flopped back down onto the blanket. “Great,” he groaned. “I’m a fucking internet fetish and my best mate reads weird fan fiction porn about werewolves.”

“Shut up, it’s good,” he retorted. “Okay, so you’re not a girl, but an Omega. Okay. That makes sense.” 

Merlin snorted. “Does it really, Will? Because I’m having a pretty hard time with the info, myself.”

“Well, I get that, I mean, it’s one hell of a shock, to be sure. But yeah, Omegas can only breed with Alphas, from what I’ve read. Okay, so now I need to switch gears and read up on gay Alpha/Omega stuff, because we need to find you a sexy Alpha boyfriend.”

Merlin groaned, “Jesus, Will. What the actual fuck. I’m not gay. I think.”

“Hah! You will be once you get a whiff of your Alpha’s scent. Gayer than my mum’s rainbow fruit salad. I’ll email you some links later. Come on,” he said as he pulled Merlin up off the blanket. “Let’s eat all the junk we brought and get your stamina back up, you sexy brood mare, you.”

“You’re the worst best friend I could have ever had.”

~O~

As Merlin read another fan fiction story in the link that Will had emailed him with the subject line ‘Oh Tailed One – Your Education Starts Now’ his horror increased.

All the talk of knotting and violent sex, biting and bonding, ruts and heats was making him blush and squirm. He became progressively more terrified of ever encountering an Alpha, frightened of being taken against his will like the majority of the stories he’d read. He felt sick to his stomach at most of what he was reading.

He ran to the bathroom after closing the window on his laptop and threw up repeatedly. He felt like the world was closing in on him.

_ This isn’t my life. The internet is full of lies and bullshit,  _ he tried to reassure himself. A small voice retorted,  _ but so much of it matches what your mother said, Merlin. _

“Shut up,” he whispered to his self-doubt.

He grabbed his toothbrush and scrubbed the sick from his teeth, gripping the basin as tightly as he could to stop his hand from trembling, and steadfastly did his best to ignore the feeling of suffocation he was experiencing.

_ Nothing is what you want it to be. _

“Stop.”

_ You’re a freak. An abomination.  _

“Please,” he pleaded. 

_ No one will ever want you. _

Merlin frantically searched through the cabinet for something to silence his fear and doubt.

_ You’re nothing. _

Merlin’s fingers skidded over the packet of new razor blades next to the cotton swabs and closed over it. With a sudden clarity he knew how to rid himself of the pressure and pain.

Careful to be sure no one would see, he lowered his pants to expose the jut of his hip where his swim trunks would cover, he took a steadying breath and pressed the blade against the soft white skin there.

As the blood welled up from the precise cut he made, he could feel his anxiety draining away. He held a swab against the cut after a moment and let his fear seep into it and out of his body. The relief was immediate.

He dropped the blade into the basin, noting absently the pattern made by his blood against the porcelain as it tumbled. His hand trembled slightly as he searched for a plaster in the drawer of the vanity, still pressing the cotton to his hip with the other.

As he bandaged his wound and cleaned up the blade and blood in the sink he buried the evidence at the bottom of the bin. He knew he could manage now.

When things got bad, all he had to do was relieve the pressure, and everything would be okay. He went to bed that night trying to forget what he’d read online and concentrated on the throbbing beneath the bandage on his hip – the little heart beat that let him know he was alive and not alone.

**September 2005**

“Get that skinny arse into some jeans, Legs, and let’s go!”

Merlin hated it when Gwaine called him Legs, and Gwaine knew it, which is why he called him that as often as possible.

“I’d like to pull before I die of old age, mate!”

“Hang on to your tits, you big perv!” Merlin called from his bedroom.

They’d moved into the flat together for their second year at University after rooming together for their first on campus and having a splendid time as one another’s wingmen.

Granted, Gwaine managed to pull without much help from Merlin; it was the hair, Merlin figured — all shoulder length and artfully wavy. Gwaine was like a modern day swashbuckling pirate. Rogue looks, brash confidence, and all that bloody hair. 

But he was the best sort of mate, too. Gwaine was the kind of mate who just accepted everyone for who they were, and expected the same in return. Merlin was more than thrilled to oblige.

And when Merlin would come away from a night out alone, Gwaine would joke that his own regular and unbiased sexual escapades were the counterbalance required to keep the earth on its axis. Merlin might have had to endure overhearing some rowdy sessions through the shared wall between their bedrooms, but he loved Gwaine dearly.

After all, Gwaine was the very reason he was now five months into a relationship with Freya, his unbelievably beautiful biology lab partner.

They had met in first year at a fresher party and Merlin had been instantly transfixed. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled up into a loose bun and her fringe dusted her lashes, making her dark brown eyes gleam. She’d been wearing a pink sundress and a string of pearls and Merlin caught sight of her with her hands clasped before her in glee and her smile wide and openly laughing at someone’s crazy antics at the party.

Merlin never saw what had captivated her, because she had suddenly become the entire universe for him. But Merlin’s situation had closed him off from pursuing relationships and he never approached her that evening.

Over the course of the term, he would see her now and then on campus, but on the first day of biology class in second term when she walked into the lab and sat beside him, Merlin’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. They had spent the semester working together, getting to know one another. Freya flirted and Merlin couldn’t resist.

They’d gone for coffee and a stroll through a nearby park for their first date, enjoying one another’s company outside of the lab. When they’d parted he asked for a second date, and she’d kissed him on the cheek and said yes. The butterflies in Merlin’s belly had felt more like helicopters.

He stepped out of his room into the living room where Gwaine was sprawled on the sofa watching the telly. His jeans were artfully ripped, his shirt barely buttoned, and his hair, good god, all of that hair was just advertising for his shaggability.

He looked up as Merlin cleared his throat and took in his room mate’s choice of apparel for the evening. A black shirt, unbuttoned over a white tee shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, dark wash slim jeans, and plain black Converse high tops.

“Yes? No? What?” he asked, always unsure of himself around Gwaine’s crippling self-confidence.

“Lose the tee, button up, tuck it in, and I’d shag your brains out.”

Merlin snorted, but stripped off the shirt to discard the undershirt and readjust his appearance as suggested.

“Stay like that long, and Freya can do without you. I won’t let you leave,” Gwaine winked at him as he blushed and hurried over the buttoning of the black shirt.

“You can’t have me, you slag. Find some other skinny dark haired bloke to fulfil your fantasies. I’m off limits,” he retorted as he threw his undershirt at Gwaine’s face.

“It’s those glorious legs, Merlin, so long and lean, my god what they wouldn’t be like tossed over my shoulders.”

“So desperately sad that you’ll never know, isn’t it?”

“Mate, I’m afraid you couldn’t handle me,” he said as he lewdly adjusted his groin. “I’m an animal.”

“Yeah,” Merlin deadpanned, “a pig. Let’s go.” Gwaine oinked loudly in his face and the pair headed for the pub.

~O~

Percival had cared for Merlin at the hospital in the year following his first heat and, in the five years that followed, had taken on a Big Brother-type role in his life.

Gaius and Nimueh had struggled through trial and error to manage Merlin’s heat cycle with hormone therapy, and admitted him to the hospital for observation and his own protection each time. Merlin had explained his physiology to Percival upon his first return to the hospital. He’d blown out his cheeks and let the air burst through pursed lips.

“Christ, kid,” had been his only reply. But he made sure to keep Merlin in a steady supply of chocolate popsicles when he was able to eat, and when he was unable to do more than writhe on the bed in agony and need, Percival helped to hold him down and spoke soothing words to him, despite the blush rising on his cheeks at some of the vulgar things Merlin unabashedly said to him, begging for release.

When he got like that, Hunith couldn’t be in the room with him out of embarrassment. Merlin was out of his mind with hormonal desires and shamelessly begged to be fucked, filled, taken and claimed.

Nimueh hated having to sedate him, as it impeded the observation of the effect of the hormone therapy trial being done, but there were times when he’d beg for the drugs, just to make it stop.

It had taken five full heat cycles to figure out the balance needed to keep Merlin from experiencing his heat cycles in such an intense manner, and he was prescribed two forms of oral birth control, one estrogen based and the other progesterone. Between the two, he was able to experience a heat without severe symptoms.

Percival had been a constant source of stabilizing comfort during that trying time, and had offered Merlin friendship outside of the hospital.

At one point, after his second heat had finally started to ease off, Merlin was embarrassed and ashamed and still very angry about his lot in life. He sniffed, “I wanted a girlfriend, you know? I like girls, Perce. I like Gwen.” He picked absently at a thread on the edge of his shirt. He snorted. “She could never love a freak like me. I can’t even have sex with her if she wanted it.”

Percival tucked away the blood pressure cuff and jotted down Merlin’s stats on his chart and sat on the edge of the narrow bed. 

“Look, Merlin, I can’t pretend to understand your frustration with how things are,” he began softly. “But, there are ways to be with someone, to love them, that don’t involve penetrative sex, you know.” He raised his brows slightly at Merlin, gauging whether or not Merlin did, in fact, know.

He gave a sigh of resignation and continued, “I’m gay, Merlin. I’ve never been with a girl, ever, but my boyfriend, Kay, he’s bisexual. There are things he likes in bed that I don’t and vice versa. So we communicate with one another about it and make changes as needed. And Merlin?” He had lowered his eyes in embarrassment as Percival spoke, but raised them now to meet his gaze evenly. “As long as you both like what you’re doing in the bedroom, it’s not wrong.”

Over the months that followed when Merlin found himself back in the care of Nimueh and Percival, he began asking Percival questions about how his relationship worked, and how sex worked, and Percival had always been honest and open with him, hoping to guide the young man towards healthy physical and emotional relationships.

In the time since they had met, Percival and Kay had become an important part of Merlin’s life. They had given Merlin the confidence to pursue a relationship with Freya and to establish the parameters of their physical relationship clearly.

~O~

“Stay?”

“Frey, you know I can’t,” he said with a sigh.

“Could too.” She turned her deep brown eyes to look at his silhouette in the dark of her room. “Please?”

This was a conversation they’d had so many times over the last five months, this one and the other bigger one — the one that had finally set their parameters.

Thankfully she had finally let the big one go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me when you wake up.” He kissed her full on the mouth, then, and she sighed into it, resigned.

“You are possibly the worst best boyfriend I’ve ever had, Merlin Emrys.”

He chuckled quietly at her, kissed her forehead and headed for the door.

The walk back to the flat he shared with Gwaine wasn’t far, but the night was cold, the autumn crisp settling into the bones of the earth. He shrugged his shoulders up around his ears, shoved his fists into his pockets and headed home in the dark.

As he walked he thought back on the span of their relationship, and the enormity of the feeling of love he was too afraid to acknowledge.

Of course, their relationship hadn’t been an easy five months. She loved his respectful desire to take things slow in the beginning, even cherished how attentive he was to her needs once they’d crossed that bridge. However, she grew impatient and frustrated with his need to keep his own clothes on, to only serve her and take nothing in return.

They argued hotly one night that ended in half-truths and full tears. She had eventually accepted his fabricated excuse of a childhood trauma to his manhood that left him unable to participate in their lovemaking fully. They wept together then, for the things he had lost, the things they would never have together, and he wept internally for having lied to her. She had relaxed then and let him worship her body and soul and never pressed for more. She loved him so openly it broke his heart to leave her each night.

But leaving her was his only option.

Staying in her bed, holding her naked and warm, was like piloting a crashing plane. It felt incredible at the start, freeing and wild, but as the reality of the situation settled upon him, panic and fear gripped him so hard he couldn’t breathe.

He turned the key in the lock to his flat with trembling hands and sent up a silent prayer that Gwaine had pulled one of the girls from the bar and was either out for the night, or had failed spectacularly and was already asleep. The flat was dark and silent as he tiptoed into the hallway and he let out the breath he’d been holding.

He shucked off his Converse and padded in sock feet to the bathroom and locked the door as a precaution. Flicking on the light he shut his eyes with a wince and squinted until his vision adjusted itself.

He opened the bottom zipper of his shaving kit and pulled out Old Faithful — the small bag containing a box of razor blades, iodine, gauze padding and plasters.

Will had gone on a family vacation to the United States when they were just boys and he’d brought Merlin an ugly yellow pencil case from Yellowstone National Park with an image of the geyser spouting off over the scenery, and Merlin had finally found a good use for the hideous thing.

He set out his tools in a small ritual perfected over the years, and undid his trousers.

In school he’d been so careful to keep his cuts within the confines of his swimming trunks, knowing his body was often on display to his team mates. But his health struggles and continued hospital stays had resulted in him being ultimately cut from the team. Since then he had let the marks tumble down over his thighs and climb up above the waistband of his pants. They ranged in colour from pale white, his first and oldest cuts, to a livid purple, the newest and freshly healed ones, but they were uniform in length and width. The orderliness of the lines gave him comfort.

Nights with Freya usually ended this way for him.

He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath before choosing a new location above his right hip and let Old Faithful give him the blessed release he craved.

As the blood welled and eventually dripped down over his older marks he let out a shuddering breath and braced his hands against the basin, letting the pain wash over him and through him and eventually out of him through the precise slit he had made.

“Merlin?”

He jumped a mile at the sound of Gwaine’s voice outside the door, heart suddenly in his throat. “Shit! You scared the bejesus out of me, arsewipe. I’m almost done, mate. Hold it.”

“Nah, I’ll just piss off the fire escape.” He heard Gwaine’s fading voice say as he retreated.

Grabbing a wad of gauze, Merlin blotted his hip and dressed the wound. He cleaned up and packed Old Faithful away in the bottom of his kit. He flicked off the light and emerged into the hallway between their bedrooms and the living room.

He saw Gwaine standing in the light of the fridge, scratching his bare chest and wearing nothing but his pants. “Beer?” he asked hearing Merlin emerge from the loo.

“Gwaine, it’s two a.m., and you have class in six hours,” he deadpanned.

“Okay then, Mum. Gin?”

“Obviously.”

Merlin moved to grab two clean cups from the drying rack and the bottle of tonic and met his roommate in the living room who was brushing debris off the coffee table to make room for their preparations.

“One day we should clean,” he said as he sat beside Gwaine on the small sofa and they dissolved into giggles in unison.

Drinks poured, arses settled, and toasts made to various people and events in their lives, Gwaine turned his torso along the arm of the couch to face Merlin and said, “How long are you going to do this, mate?”

Merlin swallowed his mouthful, let it burn and warm his insides and fill his sinuses. “Let you talk me into middle of the night drinks on a weeknight? Probably forever. You’re a terrible influence, you know. My mother would be appalled.” He set his mouth in a grim line in mock seriousness.

“Please, your mother loves me. I could be your step-dad in a heartbeat, and you know it.” He waggled his brows suggestively and tossed his shoulder length wavy hair back.

“My mother is allergic to fleas, you’d never be allowed in the house. OW!” He laughed when Gwaine jabbed him in the ribs with a foot.

“My fleas are as precious as I am,” he sniffed in mock hurt and scratched behind an ear for effect.

Merlin beamed at him and took another deep drink from his cup. Gwaine watched him swallow before his face fell serious again. 

“Look, Merlin,” he began, scooting closer to his friend, “I’m going to tell you something that only three other people know. And I’m telling you because I trust you, okay?” 

Merlin’s smile faltered and he nodded solemn.

Gwaine held out his left arm, holding it up under the elbow with his other hand. “These are not the result of drunken teenage shenanigans, as I would have the world believe.”

Merlin looked down at the familiar scars, burns shaped like the top part of a cigarette lighter. There were four of them, one deeper and uglier than the others. Merlin had heard Gwaine tell the story so many times.

_ Got shitfaced with the boys and decided to play a round of Who’s Got the Biggest Bollocks? I’ll never forget it. I burned my own arm with my lighter, but that’s nothing. Poor Cenred ended up in A&E after stabbing himself in the thigh with his pocket knife. Turns out, though, worst of all, Valiant’s got no bollocks at all. Bastard fainted before we could come up with his dare. _

Merlin looked up into Gwaine’s eyes then, and waited for the truth.

“My mum’s boyfriend didn’t like me standing up to him when he hit her. He was a huge bastard. Biggest bloke I’ve ever seen. He backhanded me across the house and said he’d teach me a lesson. My mum cried and kept telling me to be a good lad from then on as this giant arsehole held me down and burned me repeatedly.”

Silence stretched between them as Merlin fought for words. In the end, all he came up with was, “Christ.”

He stared into Gwaine’s eyes, hazel and searching for understanding. Merlin felt like he’d been punched hard in the gut, but just returned the stare, wanting his friend to know he was worthy of his trust.

“Merlin,” he continued after a moment, quiet and private in the softness of their flat at night, lit from the street lamps in pale orange on the ceiling and walls. “I understand the kind of person who hurts others.” He let out a breath and cupped his hands on Merlin’s face, beautiful and angular. He rubbed his thumbs over his cheekbones and pressed his forehead to Merlin’s. “But I don’t understand why you hurt yourself,” he whispered into the small space between them. Merlin’s breath caught and he bit his lips. Gwaine felt him tense and continued, “I’ve never known anyone like you, Merlin. You’re the very best friend I could ever have, and I want you to trust me with this.”

The intimacy of the moment overwhelmed him completely. Taking Gwaine’s wrists in his hands he gently pulled his hands away from his face and looked back up into those eyes, still searching.

“It’s too big, Gwaine. I can’t,” was all he finally answered. “Let it go. Please?”

“Mate, I’ve let a lot of things go. Things that make no bloody sense, but I trust you. So I just accept you as you are. Like, the fact that you hide bloody birth control pills in your bedroom and the fact that I see you take them each morning with your first sip of coffee.” Merlin flinched at that but said nothing. He simply stared, helpless, as Gwaine continued, “I’ve never asked why you don’t stay with Freya, or why never once in our first year you even so much as flirted with the notion of hooking up with someone. And at first I pretended not to see the scars, but I have, Merlin. I have and I’ve seen them multiply, and now I want to understand before I lose the very best mate I’ve ever had to the biggest mystery of all: what hurts you that much and how can I help?”

As he spoke, tears fell silently over those angular cheekbones and Merlin felt himself sliding helplessly toward the comfort of telling Gwaine the truth.

They never made it to their classes that morning, but they finished the bottle of gin and Gwaine learned the answer to every question he had ever had about Merlin before daybreak. He learned which lies had been told and to whom and which needed to be kept,  _ please, for the love of all things you deem holy, please. _

They had both cried through most of it. And when Merlin had raged and paced with anger, Gwaine just let him and held him when it was over. Gwaine didn’t understand the details of what it meant to be an Omega, but Merlin barely understood them himself.

What Gwaine did understand was that his best mate was in pain and needed an alternative to self-harm and he asked Merlin to let him help him in any way possible.

They fell asleep on the couch sometime after dawn, half tangled together by the time they woke, heads splitting and breaths foul with their hangovers.

“Fuck me,” Merlin mumbled as he was dragged toward the surface of wakefulness. There was an incoherent noise in response from the other end of the sofa. Merlin cracked open an eye and was greeted by a long, bony foot mere inches from his face. “Ugh,” he groaned. “Get off, you ape.”

Gwaine rolled over, landing face first on the floor and let out a muffled expletive. Merlin dragged his phone from his pocket to check the time and nearly shit himself.

“Sweet merciful crap!” he shouted and he leapt off the couch and over the prone form of his snoring roommate. “Gwaine, it’s fucking 5:30!! We slept all bloody day! Fucking fuck!” He stumbled toward the bathroom to clean himself up.

When he emerged a few minutes later, he’d taken two aspirin, his daily pills, drank two glasses of water and had splashed water over his face and brushed his teeth. He looked better than he felt but he didn’t have time to worry about that. He was meeting Freya for their evening lab in fifteen minutes.

Gwaine had dragged himself off the living room rug and his bedroom door was closed. Merlin decided it would be best to leave him to his sleep for now and left without a word.

~O~

“Freya, don’t. Please.” He stared into those big brown eyes so full of hurt and it felt like he was being crushed. Thunder echoed loudly a fraction of a second behind the blinding flash outside her bedroom window, making them both flinch.

“Merlin, you cannot be seriously considering walking home in  _ that _ .” She waved her hand vaguely around her bedroom, indicating the massive storm that was raging outside. “Just stay.”

She raised her hand in protest as Merlin opened his mouth to refuse. “I know you’re weird about this, and I am really trying to understand it. I am, I promise. But it’s a few hours of sleep in the warmth and safety of your girlfriend’s bed instead of a treacherous run in the middle of the night through an epic thunderstorm.”

Merlin’s guts were clenching with panic. He knew he was backed into a corner and he’d never felt so horrifically small before in his life. “I haven’t got any of my stuff,” he whined quietly, knowing he was sunk.

Freya winked and reached to open the small cupboard beneath her desk drawer, pulling a shoebox out and putting it in his hands. Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, Merlin opened the lid and stared at the contents.

There was a stick of his deodorant, a new toothbrush, his favourite toothpaste (the weird fluoride free one that tastes like oranges and cloves that makes Gwaine gag), floss, a new pair of boxer briefs and one of his tee shirts that Freya had borrowed once and never returned.

His heart tightened at her thoughtfulness and he turned his eyes back to her and pressed a kiss into her forehead. “You—” he broke off, unable to articulate clearly. “It’s this important to you that I stay?” he asked, small and slightly shamed by his earlier refusal.

“Merlin, I love you. I want you to be comfortable here. I want you to want to stay. I won’t push and I won’t ask again. But the offer is there.”

With that she laid back against her pillows, making sure to leave room for Merlin if he decided to stay. He glanced from the space beside her to the box in his lap. His emotions waged war within him.

The box was missing a few key items that he would need, his pills for the morning and comfortable sleep pants — he was dressed for their night out and was in a new pair of jeans, not at all broken in enough to sleep comfortably, but most importantly, the box didn’t have Old Faithful and Merlin wasn’t sure how he would get through the night without it.

He’d been trying, with Gwaine’s help, and had managed to avoid cutting himself over the last few weeks. They’d tried ice cubes, rubber bands, red ink, and running until they couldn’t stand anymore. None of those alternatives had really given him the release he got from his cuts, but they, like his birth control pills did for his heat symptoms, took enough of the edge off to manage getting through the worst of it.

And each time he’d had Gwaine to talk him through it, to drown out the voice of his demons and help him cry instead of bleed.

He sighed heavily as another crack of lightning made him jump. He picked up the toothpaste and brush and placed the box on top of Freya’s desk. “Just give me a minute to get ready to sleep.”

He’d stalled in the bathroom, trying to calm himself down, and when he’d finally emerged Freya had rolled onto her side facing away from him. He picked up his phone from where he tucked it into his shoe when he’d arrived at Freya’s and tapped out a quick text to Gwaine.

Merlin: Waiting out storm @ Freya’s. Don’t wait up. M.

Within seconds the ellipses of Gwaine typing his reply appeared so Merlin waited for the message before shutting his phone off for the night.

Gwaine: ?? U sure?

M: No. but it’s happening.

G: Legs, be careful.

M: Too late.

G: Mate, I’m coming to get you. Fuck the storm.

M: Don’t. Gn Gwaine.

The ellipses popped up again, but Merlin switched off the phone before he could see Gwaine’s reply. He turned back toward the bed and lifted Freya’s duvet to climb in behind her, tucking his long legs up next to hers.

He felt ridiculous and his heart hammered in his ears, but he tried very hard to keep his breathing steady as he settled. Freya gently wiggled her hips against him and stopped abruptly.

“What?” he breathed into her hair.

Her hand drifted slowly back and ran down over his thigh. He knew what she was indicating. She was there, in bed in his arms in cream lace underpants and a thin cotton vest while he was in bed fully dressed in jeans and his jumper. She straightened one leg running her small bare foot along his shin.  _ Shit.  _ She snorted quietly when her foot rested on top of his, still in socks.

“You’re so weird,” she mumbled and drew her limbs back to how they’d been before to settle back into her comfortable slumber.

_ She thinks you’re a freak.  _

Merlin screwed his eyes shut tight and tried to ignore it.

_ You are a freak. Too afraid of your own skin. Too afraid of feeling anything other than pain. _

His muscles went rigid as the panic started to build, blood rushing through his veins, begging to be set free. He lay perfectly still, willing himself to relax and keep breathing, and silently screaming for it all to just fucking stop.

_ You didn’t even have the guts to tell her no. _

He rolled to his back to stop his chest from heaving against her back, afraid he’d wake her.

_ Look at her; you think you deserve her?  _

He gripped the tops of his thighs as tightly as he could, needing to put pressure where he knew the blood was rising. He could feel his pulse in his fingertips, tempting him.

_ You’ll never give her what she wants, what she needs. You’re not enough.  _

He swallowed back a sob.

_ You’re nothing. _

Merlin stood and rushed out of her bedroom, sparing a quick guilty glance over his shoulder at Freya’s sleeping form. Back in her small bathroom now he dug frantically through her medicine chest for a razor.

He fumbled through the odds and ends of the mysterious items girls store in their bathrooms, not knowing what was Freya’s and what belonged to her roommate, Mithian. He poked through tweezers, make up, brushes and sponges, various bottles of pills — pain relief, sinus and allergy relief, throat lozenges. With a sick sob of laughter at the sheer incredulity of the situation, Merlin noted that Freya took the same kind of birth control as one of the two brands that he did.

That did it.

He stalked out of the bathroom, leaving the light on, and headed for the small kitchen of the flat. He dragged open the drawers rifling through them for a blade.

His desperation had reached a dizzying high he’d never felt outside of those early heat cycles. He was filled with an aching need, only this time he knew exactly how to relieve it.

He grabbed a small filleting knife from the knife block on the counter and gently tested its blade against the pad of his thumb. It was a smooth blade and felt blissfully sharp. He dropped it on the counter and yanked at the button and zip of his jeans.

There were no alcohol swabs, but there was a bottle of vodka in the freezer and it would have to do. He soaked a tea towel and frantically swabbed his leg with the cold booze, hissing at the sting of it on his hot skin.

He leaned his arse against the edge of the counter and grabbed the knife, long and clumsy in his hand by comparison to the small neat blades he was used to, and pressed it to the inside of his left thigh and waited for the rush of release to overtake him.

In the span of a second the kitchen flight flashed on and someone screamed, “WHAT THE FUCK?” startling Merlin, causing him to jump and drop the knife.

With his heart in his throat he looked up into the paling face of Mithian who dropped the baseball bat she’d had raised for an attack.

They were both frozen to the spot, but the noise had roused Freya and she came barrelling into Mithian from behind and screamed.

Merlin glanced down to explain it away, to give an excuse, any reason at all for what was happening, but was stricken with the sight of the sea of red around his feet, soaking into his socks.

“Oh,” he breathed as his eyes rolled up into his skull and the world went black.

~O~

The food was abysmal at the Avalon psychiatric hospital, and he found his therapy sessions with Dr. Kilgharrah to be too cryptic and infuriating, but Merlin was learning that he needed to talk to someone and Doctor K, as the other patients referred to the man, was fairly easy to talk to once he got over the initial irrational fear that he might actually develop fangs and devour him.

He’d been at Avalon for two weeks following his release from the hospital for his accidental self-inflicted near-death experience — the sharp filleting knife had nicked his femoral artery when he’d jumped from the fright Mithian had given him.

Doctor K had assured him that through therapy and medication he would be able to manage the anxiety and depression that was plaguing his daily existence. That was the light at the end of Merlin’s long, dark, ugly tunnel.

The worst of it had been having to see the hurt and betrayal in Freya’s eyes, and then again in his mother’s.

Once he was well enough for the conversation, he had come clean with Freya about his health and body and what damage his love for her was causing him psychologically as well as physically. She had every right to be furious with him and often she was, but for the most part she was devastated that he’d not felt he could tell her.

“I thought you loved me, Merlin?” she had cried quietly. “You could have,  _ should have _ , told me.”

In the end, he had let her go, and it broke his heart into a thousand pieces, but the sudden absence of the weight of it left him feeling like he could breathe again for the first time in months.

When Will showed up the weekend after the incident and met Gwaine, instead of the burning jealousy he’d always felt for the new “best mate” in Merlin’s life, he was filled with gratitude for the man’s presence.

“Hey, man. Thank you,” he’d said, voice thick with unshed tears, “for being there for him. For doing what you did.”

“I love the idiot, you know? It’s hard not to.”

Will snorted, “Right? Even though he’s got a tail and twelve testes, he’s still the best thing ever.”

“It’s the tail and testes I fell for, actually,” Gwaine laughed as Merlin threw his pillow across the hospital room at the pair of them.

“Great. The last thing I need is the two of you arseholes teaming up.” He rubbed his hand over his face and laughed. “Gwaine, I beg you,” he said, suddenly serious, “NEVER open any link that man sends to you. You’re corrupt enough.”

At Avalon there hadn’t been time for boredom. Between his semi-weekly sessions with Doctor K, he had group sessions with others who engaged in self harm, there were sporting events for those able and interested in the afternoons, and regular visits from friends and family in the evenings.

Gaius had contacted Dr. Nimueh to consult with her about the effects the antidepressants would have on Merlin’s hormone therapy and vice versa. She informed Merlin that while he was there, under observation, she wanted to take him off the pills he’d been on and trial an injectable hormone cocktail she’d put together for him.

It would mean only needing a single shot every three months instead of two pills every day, which would give him much more freedom than he had now. She also hoped it would actually stop his heat cycle entirely, rather than simply ease the symptoms. He hadn’t had any of his pills since that night at Freya’s and they simply needed to wait for his heat to start up in the next couple of weeks as anticipated.

By the time he was released it was nearly Christmas break and the end of the semester. He’d passed the hormone trial with flying colours, his heat cycle actually halting within 24 hours of the injection, Doctor Kilgharrah had found the right dosage of medications for his depression and anxiety, and his physical wounds had officially healed. Merlin was feeling like a whole new version of himself.

He and Gwaine had burned Old Faithful and its contents in a ceremonial farewell to the old Merlin. He and Freya had remained friends and were slated to share two courses in the second semester. He had a scheduled visit with Nimueh in the New Year to check his hormone levels and have an ultrasound to make sure he was healthy.

He went home to spend his last days of holiday freedom with his mother and tried very hard to remember all of Doctor K’s advice.

  
  
  



	3. Strange Attraction

**June 2011**

“How do you know this Pendragon clotpole again?”

Freya sighed and leaned in the doorway of Merlin’s office. “Really, Merlin; a little respect for the man, please. He’s Mithian’s boss.”

“Have you read his emails? Honestly,” he snorted, “the arsewipe thinks pretty highly of himself. Listen to this:

 _"Mr. Emrys,_ He called me Mister, Freya. MISTER.

 _I expect a tour of the facility within the week as Pendragon Technologies will be hosting buyers from Japan and they will want a demonstration of PenTech equipment in use. I will need to personally assess the state of the laboratories before permitting you_ PERMITTING ME _to host a tour for them. Contact Ms. Nemeth immediately to schedule my initial assessment._

_A. Pendragon_

“I mean, really, Frey. Who does he think he is? The bloody King of England?”

Freya sighed heavily and waved her arm vaguely around their shared lab beyond the office door. “A. Pendragon, of Pendragon Technologies is the bloody CEO of the company responsible for the development and manufacture of every piece of equipment at our disposal, not to mention the incredibly generous benefactor who keeps us afloat in our research. Mithian pulled strings for us as his PA, and not only should you be kissing her feet for it, you’ll have to grow up and kiss this King of England’s arse now and then. It won’t kill you to show him around the place, and tell him about the research we’re doing.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically at that and slumped at his desk.

“Merlin,” she warned, “Call Mithian, set it up, and be done with it while I’m away. You’re a bloody scientist and a brilliant one at that. Start behaving like it.”

“Oh sure,” he pouted, “you get to run away to Mallorca for a fortnight with my very best friend, without me mind you, and I’ve got to clean this place up and play host to some rich schmuck who thinks he owns the place.”

Freya nodded gleefully and called over her shoulder as she walked back toward her own office door, “That’s because he essentially owns this place, and I’ll be honeymooning with my husband. Merlin, you cannot come with us. Call Mith and get it done!”

He flipped a rude gesture at her as her door swung closed. He grabbed the phone on his desk and forcefully punched at the keys muttering to himself about a certain self-important clotpole. As the line connected and he heard a gruff male voice sharply ask, _Pendragon Technologies, how may I direct your call?_ He forced himself into a cheery smile and said, “Mithian Nemeth’s office, please.”

~O~

The speeches were over, the music was pumping, the crowd was happily partying and Freya and Will looked positively, disgustingly radiant at the centre of it all.

Gwaine was dancing with Mithian, which Merlin thought was just like Gwaine — she’d brought a date and left him sitting alone at the table in a sea of strangers, all because he’d flipped that fucking hair in her direction without a thought for how the poor bloke might feel about it.

The lonesome bugger sat there staring out at the dance floor in a white button down shirt and a navy vest, fidgeting with the stem of an empty wine glass. Merlin felt sorry for the bugger. Mithian was beautiful and sweet and kind, but thoughtless at times, and Merlin had truly hoped she would outgrow it at some point in the last six years of their friendship.

Merlin took a long draw from the bottle of beer in his hand and watched the crowd, laughing, dancing, and sweating. Will had shucked his jacket somewhere and had his tie around his forehead. Freya had her dress, a beautiful blush pink and white lace, yanked up gracelessly around her knees and was dancing wildly in bare feet as her hair tumbled loosely from its pins. Mithian abandoned Gwaine in favour of dancing with the other bridesmaids and Gwaine had managed to snag Merlin’s mother for a dance. With a small smile, he left the banquet hall in search of fresh air and a moment of quiet.

He found a narrow stairwell to the left of the coat check and lowered himself to sit on the top step. He picked idly at a loose thread on the seam of the navy blue trousers he was wearing. He hated tuxedos, hated this blue suit even more, and decided then and there that if ever he got married, it would be barefoot on a beach somewhere. _Yeah right, Merlin._ He closed his eyes as the thought of never having someone to marry washed over him and let out a deep breath.

“You alright, mate?” The voice startled him and he glanced up at the man Mithian had brought, apparently tired of watching his beautiful date dance with everyone but him.

“Yeah, just”—he hesitated—“needed space.”

The man offered him one of the two bottles of beer in his hand and Merlin accepted it graciously and moved over to make room on the step for the poor dejected bastard.

“You look like you just watched the love of your life marry your best mate,” he joked. Merlin turned green and looked shamefully at his shiny rental shoes.

“Something like that.”

The man sat heavily next to him on the step and Merlin suddenly felt himself suffocating in his presence. He filled Merlin’s senses uncomfortably — his voice rumbling along his spine, his cologne _god, is that even cologne?_ filling his sinuses took his breath away, and when Merlin turned to look at him his vision was assaulted with massive blue eyes, golden hair and the most ridiculously wide mouth turned down in a pout.

“Shit. Really? Fuck me, mate, that blows. Do they know?”

“Freya does,” he whispered, feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed. “Will doesn’t need to know. I’m Merlin, by the way,” he said to fill the awkwardness that had created a chasm between them.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, which caused Merlin to raise his brows slightly before he continued, “Best Man and all that. Your name was said a few times over the course of the day, in case you forgot.”

“Right,” he blushed.

_Jesus, don’t blush. Stop looking at him. Why does he smell like that?_

“Why do you smell like that?” he blurted. “Shit, sorry. Nevermind. I’m drunk.”

The man looked confused and slightly offended but chuckled quietly at the outburst and shook his head. The sound of it puddled in Merlin’s guts and he stood abruptly, swaying slightly, feeling much more intoxicated than he knew he should be.

The man stood and gripped Merlin’s bare forearms where he’d rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Merlin’s skin felt like it was set on fire and the bones of his forearms felt hollow and fragile under the man’s strong grip.

_My god, he could take me apart._

“You okay?” he asked quietly, peering into Merlin’s eyes, his face suddenly too close, his breath ghosting over Merlin’s lips, eyes drowning him in their blue seas.

_Taste him._

The thought overwhelmed him and it dawned on him that was the last of his senses yet to be affected by this strangely alluring man. Merlin lunged forward, pressing the man back against the wall behind him and devoured his mouth like a starving animal. He let out a squeak of surprise but quickly recovered and kissed Merlin back just as passionately, smiling into his mouth now and then. When Merlin’s tongue met his in a slow wet slide he let out a filthy moan deep into the other man’s mouth. The sound seemed to startle him and he broke the kiss, pushing himself away from the man.

 _What the actual fuck are you doing, Emrys?_ He lowered his eyes, shielding himself from the sight of the other man, flushed and wanting more. He swallowed thickly, trying to clear himself of the taste of the man’s mouth. _What the?_

He felt something tight and uncomfortable and glanced down at the source; his trousers were obviously tented with arousal. _Sweet Jesus._ Realization hit him like a brick wall and he ran from the man without as much as a glance back.

_An Alpha._

~O~

Gwaine stared at him with his jaw hanging down as if the words coming out of Merlin’s mouth were an alien language. “I don’t even know what the hell happened.” He flopped back on the sofa as Gwaine sat on the edge of the coffee table.

“Let’s review, shall we? You said he sat down, spoke to you and you just snogged the face off him without so much as a ‘hey how are you’ and then ran away because you got your first boner kissing the boyfriend of one of your friends.”

Merlin blushed and looked sheepishly horrified. “Well. I mean. He brought me a beer.”

“And you went at him like a horny teenager on prom night?”

“Gwaine, I think you’re missing the bigger picture here.” He sat up and faced him, long legs causing their knees to bump between them. “I’m pretty sure that guy is an Alpha, which is why I reacted like I did. My mum said that I’d be able to smell an Alpha – that I would _want_ him. An ALPHA, Gwaine. They aren’t all gone. There has to be more out there. I need that guy’s blood for my research. And I need to find more of them.”

Gwaine smirked and raised his brows at that. “And you need to find more of them so you can get your fill, you slut.”

Merlin let his head drop onto the back of the sofa, and Gwaine watched his Adam’s apple slide slowly down the length of his throat as he swallowed. “Mate, if that’s what it feels like for you with everyone you snog, no wonder you’re a man-whore. I’d fuck anything with a heartbeat to get that feeling back.”

Gwaine smiled gleefully at him, “Legs, you haven’t even fucked anything yet. But you will. We will track this guy down and get you properly laid.”

Merlin groaned. “Yeah, hi, Mithian? It’s Merlin. Look, I was wondering if I could ring up your date from Will and Freya’s wedding. I didn’t catch his name, but I’d like it very much if I could take him for a spin, you know? Ride him like a stolen horse — hell-bent for leather. Great, thanks. You’re a gem for sharing.” Gwaine started howling with laughter. “I’m sure that’s exactly how that conversation would go. Ugh. Speaking of Mithian, I need to sleep. I’ve to play host to her giant prat of a boss tomorrow at the lab.”

“Oh yes, Old Man Pendragon is slumming it with the lowly peasants tomorrow. I forgot. Enjoy that, mate.”

He slapped Merlin on the knee and yanked him to his feet so they could amble off toward their respective bedrooms for the night.

~O~

“Fuck you, you buggering fuck of a fucking piece of shite eating fucker!”

The coffee maker had been called worse, to be honest, but today it didn’t deserve Merlin’s wrath and he quietly apologised to it. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just nervous.”

He had spilled his coffee all over the small countertop in the wee kitchenette of the lab and was yanking paper towels off the dispenser furiously as he dropped them onto the mess to contain it.

“Do you only apologise to machinery when you offend it, or do people qualify as well?”

Merlin jumped a mile and spun around. Standing in the doorway, leaning casually as if he owned the fucking place, was Mithian’s Alpha.

“Oh. Fuck.”

“I see.” The gorgeous prat smirked.

Merlin gaped at him unattractively and noted just how attractive the other man truly was. His entire countenance seemed to glow a golden colour. His hair was a summery yellow, his skin a warm tanned hue one didn’t have the right to have in London, and those eyes, so big and blue and shiny and staring right at Merlin. He gave himself a mental shake and straightened to face him directly.

“I don’t know who you are or how you found my office, but you cannot be here. I’m giving a tour of the lab to some rich prat who thinks he’s the fucking King of England in fifteen minutes and I have to clean up all this fucking mess. So”—he turned—“have an interesting life without me in it, thanks.”

 _Oh god, did I just throw out the man whose blood I desperately need?_ His gut clenched involuntarily. _Yeah, yeah. I need that, too._

He resumed mopping the coffee up, tossing the sopping paper into the bin as he went. The man, damn his eyes, didn’t move. He stood there, Cheshire cat grin spread all over that beautiful face, and watched.

Merlin sighed after a moment of willing him to walk away had failed and turned back. “I’m sorry I snogged you at the wedding the other night. Please go?”

He pressed himself forward to walk into the room and extended a hand to Merlin which, since his were full of paper towels soaked with coffee, Merlin did not take.

“Arthur Pendragon. Rich prat. King of England. Here for the tour, thanks.”

“Oh. Fuck.” _He does own the fucking place._

Arthur chuckled. “Eloquence is not your forte, Merlin. Now, show me around.”

He scowled sharply at his retreating back and bit out a quiet, “Yes, Sire.”

Merlin let his natural verbosity run wild as he rambled on and on about the lab and the research that Freya was working on, enjoying the vacant look on Pendragon’s smug face as he nodded now and then as if he had the slightest idea what Merlin was even saying.

_Look at this gorgeous dipshit. I’m not even saying sentences anymore, just reciting a glossary of scientific terms at him and he’s nodding appreciatively at me like he’s sampling fine wines._

Arthur would occasionally run a proprietary finger _what is even the deal with that stupid fidget ring?_ over the PenTech logo on the equipment Merlin was showing him. Merlin did his best to keep his physical distance and to breathe shallowly to avoid becoming intoxicated once again on that bloody blissful smell.

After a while Arthur sighed and looked Merlin full in the face and said, “I’m not, you know.”

The non-sequitur ground Merlin’s rambling to a halt. He screwed up his brows and just stared dumbly at him waiting for clarification.

Looking down at his shoes briefly then peeking up at Merlin through his lashes, Arthur practically purred, “Sorry that you snogged me, I mean.”

Merlin’s jaw snapped audibly shut at that and he swallowed hard. “Uh, look. About that,” he began shakily. “It’s just that, well. I’m straight. And you’re Mithian’s boyfriend, which as her boss I find highly inappropriate, by the way. And I was drunk, or high, or something.”

“Oh,” he nodded with a small smile. “I’m not, though.”

“Yes, we established that.” Merlin crossed his arms and smirked. The King of England was suddenly less a prat and more a puzzled little boy. The transformation amused Merlin to no end. Arthur looked at him with confusion for a moment before he figured it out.

“Oh, no, not the kissing thing. I’m not Mithian’s boyfriend. The schmuck she was dating broke up with her two days before the wedding. She was crying at her desk. I offered to step in as her date.”

Merlin snorted. “How very Knight in Shining Armour of you, your Highness.”

That angered Arthur. He suddenly stalked toward Merlin who blanched and backed away.

“Look here, you idiot. Yes, I am the CEO of a multibillion dollar company that I inherited, which makes me the boss of an entire empire of employees, but I care about them all, look after them all, and they’re loyal to me for it. Running the business is a hands-on affair for me. I don’t sit in a fucking ivory tower while my minions do everything for me. I’m out here, in the world, looking after my people, my subjects, and I do a pretty damned good job of it. I’m their king as long as they’ll have me.” He had backed Merlin against his office door. “I’m fairly certain that my generosity is what keeps you in business here, _Mer_ lin.”

Merlin swallowed hard and tried valiantly to ignore the finger, _damn, it’s the one with the ring_ , poking him square in the chest. He clenched his jaw at the invasion of his space and pressed back into Arthur’s as he hissed, “Does that make me one of your loyal subjects then, or a lowly fucking servant here to do your bidding, _Sire_?” He threw as much venom in the last word as possible.

That seemed to snap Arthur out of whatever had taken over him. He turned abruptly away and dragged a hand furiously through his hair. When he let go it stuck up at awkward angles and Merlin fisted his hands at his sides to avoid reaching out to smooth it. He’d been holding onto his dignity as tightly as possible since the man stalked unannounced into the kitchenette this morning and his resolve was weakening with each passing moment. Being shoved against a wall hadn’t helped matters.

“Look,” Merlin began once he had calmed his breathing, “I’m sorry. Really.” Arthur glared at him from beneath his fringe, arms folded crossly in front of him. _Look at this giant sulking baby, god._ “I truly am sorry that I was rude to you, and that I misled you with that kiss, and that I insulted you.” He walked tentatively closer to Arthur as he spoke. He laid a hand on Arthur’s forearm, fingertips brushing his chest, heaving as he breathed. “I’m sure you’re a wonderful boss and a great guy. You just caught me off guard and I got defensive, okay?”

“Fine,” he huffed. “Enough about Freya’s research.” He moved away and waved his arm toward her work space. “I actually arranged this meeting to learn more about yours. When I mentioned to Mithian the sort of research I wanted to support, she instantly said that I’d want to support her good friend Merlin Emrys who was working on something near and dear to my heart. So—” He walked into Merlin’s office and had planned to sit in Merlin’s desk chair, but was flummoxed by the ergonomic ball seat he found instead. He scowled at it for a moment and opted to sit in one of the small leather seats in front of Merlin’s desk as Merlin smirked at him. “How is my money helping you help others?”

“Damn,” Merlin muttered. “I was really hoping you were going to try to sit on it. That would have made my entire year.” He sighed from the doorway of his office without making an effort to enter. “I’m bloody famished and there’s a great Italian bistro at the end of this block. If I buy lunch for His Majesty, would he join me so I could regale him with the tales of my research?”

_Did I just ask this prat out on a date? AND OFFER TO FUCKING PAY??_

Arthur laughed. “Lose the lab coat and it’s a date.”

_Except it’s not a date, because I’m straight and I’m not snogging you again no matter how fucking delicious you smell, you giant arse of a human._

Merlin dimpled adorably, causing Arthur’s expression to soften. “Prat.” Arthur smirked and his eyes twinkled.

“Idiot.”

_I’m fucked._

As the server dropped their plates before them, pumpkin ravioli in cream sauce for Merlin and veal parmesan with spaghetti Bolognese for Arthur, Merlin asked, “I’m trying to figure it out. What about my research could possibly be ‘near and dear’ to your heart, as you put it? I’m looking for a correlation between genetics and certain types of infertility, and”—he forked up a square of pasta and continued—“from what I’ve gathered over the course of our very interesting acquaintanceship, you’re unattached and quite possibly into men.” Arthur reddened slightly but didn’t indicate otherwise. “So that begs the question, why my lab? Why my research?”

Leaning back in his seat, Arthur explained, “My parents struggled to conceive. They consulted doctors who found no cause whatsoever for their troubles. In the end, to conceive me, they sought out some weird hippie mystic woman. I don’t know what she gave them or what she did.” He paused and glanced out the window at the people rushing by. “My father refuses to speak of it,” he said softly, looked back to Merlin and continued, “but it worked. And I am here. I know they suffered emotionally and financially from the ordeal. All my father will say is that it is a family issue and it is in our blood.” He shrugged feebly. “Maybe with my financial resources and your brilliant mind — so says Mithian. I still think you’re an idiot”—he smiled brightly—“we could help other people with the same or similar issues.”

Merlin tried not to scream internally as Arthur spoke and did his best to take it all in and process the information.

“In the blood, hmm? Well, I would need a blood sample from each of your parents, and from you too, while we’re at it, and I can see where you all fall within the parameters of my research.”

_Motherfucking jackpot._

Arthur thumbed the ring on his forefinger. “I will gladly give mine, and could possibly convince my father if he thought it was for something else.” He swallowed deeply and looked at his plate of half eaten food. “But my mother died when I was born.”

“Oh,” Merlin breathed. He could see Arthur’s square jaw tighten as he braced himself for the sympathies Merlin assumed he was used to. He reached across the table and took Arthur’s hand, the one with that bloody ring, and asked, “Did she get to hold you?”

Arthur’s head snapped up in surprise and he gripped Merlin’s fingers for a moment. “Yes. Once,” he whispered. Swallowing the lump in his throat he continued, “My father said she sang to me.” Entirely without his permission, a fat tear rolled over Arthur’s cheek and he pulled his hand from Merlin’s to wipe it. “This ring was hers. It’s all I have.”

Merlin’s heart broke as he watched Arthur twirl the outer band on the ring and he wondered how often he did that and thought of her. “My dad,” he began, but his voice got caught in his throat. Clearing it gently he started again, “My dad died before I was born. Didn’t know my mum was even pregnant.”

The men stared at one another for a long silent moment, simply feeling one another’s sorrow.

“Can I get you two lovebirds anything else?” The server irritatingly appeared out of nowhere.

Arthur looked sharply at her. “The bill, thanks.”

When the food was gone and the bill paid, which Arthur had refused to let Merlin pay, “For the love of Pete, Merlin, I pay your salary, it’s still me paying for lunch no matter how you look at it,” the pair had walked quietly back to the lab, not discussing the moment they had shared.

Merlin noted that in the short span of time he’d been in Arthur’s presence they’d passionately snogged themselves hard, rudely insulted one another, shoved each other against various surfaces in anger and cried together over similar losses.

_It’s like a bloody rollercoaster. And I never want it to stop._

As they approached the main entry to Merlin and Freya’s work space, Merlin turned to Arthur. “Look, I want to explain the details of my research to you. And if you’ll consent to it today, take a blood sample before you go.”

“Sure. Of course.”

Arthur followed Merlin back into the building and to the lift. The ride down had been suffocating for Merlin, and he prepared himself to discreetly hold his breath on the way back up. Apparently it wasn’t discreet enough.

“Do I really smell that terrible?” Arthur seemed sadly offended. Merlin didn’t know how to answer. Before he could say anything, Arthur continued, “You’ve been breathing weird all day, like you’re trying not to breathe through your nose, and at the wedding...” he trailed off, hot faced. Merlin crinkled his brow and pursed his lips slightly at the memory of the wedding encounter. “I mean, you blurted out at me that I smell!”

Merlin flushed at that. “You smell amazing, Arthur. It makes me dizzy. I’m just trying not to faint or tear your clothes off.”

_WAS THAT OUT LOUD??_

Dark blond brows disappeared under the golden fringe. Then a slow smirk spread across his face and Arthur retorted, “But you’re straight, Merlin.” He closed in against Merlin in the corner of the lift and breathed across his face. “And you moaned like a whore when I sucked on your tongue.”

To his eternal horror, Merlin whimpered.

_Oh fuck you, instincts._

Arthur’s gaze became predatory just as the lift doors opened and he tore himself away from Merlin and marched back into the laboratory.

Merlin shoved past him and opened his office door. He paused to open the narrow window behind his desk to air out Arthur’s scent, which got more intense with his mood. He stuck his head out through the window and gulped down the Alpha scent-free air and glared at Arthur over his shoulder when he chuckled.

“Prat.”

He rifled through the filing cabinet looking for some specific files and indicated that Arthur should sit where he’d been earlier. Finally ready to go over the logistics of his research, Merlin swung one of his long legs over the ball and bounced down onto his bum, settling himself at the desk.

“Wow. I’m very glad I didn’t try to sit on it,” Arthur laughed.

Merlin simply glared at him. “Now, if you’re quite ready, Sire?”

Arthur’s smirk disappeared. He casually waved a hand toward Merlin as if indicating that he’d been given permission to address the King.

With a roll of the eyes, Merlin began.

“Human DNA is pretty damned complex, to put it mildly. The genes required for things like blue eyes and brown eyes are easy to track and trace and figure out, but things like right or left handedness are a bit trickier. Mapping human DNA is a massive undertaking and is generally split up into different fields of research. There are those trying to find proof of a genetic predisposition to cancers, autism spectrum disorder, Alzheimer’s disease, et cetera. It’s a bloody big job, and bless us all, we’re trying.” He shifted the files before him and tried not to look directly at Arthur as he spoke so that he wouldn’t get distracted.

“Fertility is equally complex. One would think it’s just a matter of boy meets girl, but there is a lot more involved. For example”—he grabbed a pen and notepad and drew some very confusing squiggles that Arthur pretended to understand—“we excrete pheromones, and even though we don’t actually smell them as detectable odors, the brain picks them up here”—I ndicating one of the squiggles he’d drawn—“through the olfactory centre in the sinuses. Not only can a man subconsciously pick up on when a woman is more fertile in her own cycle, she can determine through his pheromones if his genes will be a good evolutionary match to hers.”

Arthur’s brows rose.

“But,” he continued, “Fertility is also heavily influenced by physical health and environmental influences, which can make the field of Reproductive Sciences a wildly varied thing. Figuring out the why in a fertility issue is the largest piece of the puzzle. Does the woman produce enough hormones? If not, why not? Does the man’s sperm swim too erratically? Why? You see? It’s not just a matter of helping couples conceive. It’s about why they can’t and determining the root cause.”

He paused and glanced up at Arthur. “Actually, I’m dying to know who this hippie shaman is your parents went to see, and know what was done for them.”

Grabbing one of the file folders he’d yanked out of the cupboard, he flipped it open and turned it so Arthur could read the contents of the first page. “My study is on couples who have no underlying physical health concern or external cause for their infertility. I use the terms Alpha, Beta and Omega to describe the case members.” He paused and glanced at Arthur again, gauging whether or not he was familiar with the terms, possibly his father had mentioned it, maybe Arthur knew what he was.

Seeing no outward response, he carried on. “What my studies have indicated so far is that an Omega can only mate with an Alpha, which makes conceiving a child impossible when an Omega falls in love with a Beta. I’m fairly certain Beta couples don’t suffer from genetic related fertility issues, though health and environment issues may be present. I hypothesize that Alpha humans are able to successfully mate with Betas and Omegas, but have yet to find an Alpha person for my study.”

Arthur looked up at that, taking his eyes off the cover page of the file folder on Merlin’s desk which read _Alpha, Beta, Omega: A Study of Human Genetic Variation, Merlin Emrys, Ph.D._

“But you have both Beta and Omega case studies?”

“I do. Beta humans are by and large the majority of the population. I’ve only encountered two Omegas so far, and one of them is potentially an outlier and will need to be discounted in my research.”

Arthur’s brows furrowed at that.

“But, with your funding I’ve been able to offer financial incentive to folks dealing with fertility issues via three of the largest fertility centres in London, to send me blood samples for my research, as well as putting to good use my long term professional relationship with leading geneticist, Caroline Nimueh, under whom I studied for my post graduate work. It’s my hope that I can offer hope for those who fear all hope is lost. But first I’ve got to understand the why.”

“You’ve done your masters and Ph.D. in genetic science? You’ve either got remarkable genes yourself or you’re one of those child prodigies like, what’s his name, the kid doctor?”

Merlin laughed, “Doogie Howser?” He shook his head, smiling. “Not quite a child prodigy, but nearly obsessively driven. I did courses all year long, never stopping for summer breaks. I’m twenty four.” When Arthur raised his brows at that, Merlin added, “And incredibly dedicated to my research.”

“So what’s the deal with your potential outlier? Why can’t you use their data?”

Merlin sighed and rifled through the file folders. “Because, I’m fairly certain, though I’ve only the one other Omega case to date, that Omega humans are biologically female. That case member assures me that her mother and grandmother and on and on were all Omega, though they’re unfortunately deceased and unable to participate, and that when she gave birth to a son she thought the family line ended there.”

He picked up a thick folder, one with which he was intimately acquainted. “This is my other Omega case study. Her son. I refer to him as Patient 22.” Merlin flipped the folder around for Arthur to look at. “You can see here that his DNA shows that he is biologically male, X and Y chromosomes both present and healthy. He looks male, identifies as male in the social construct of gender, he presents as masculine to the world, and is, to date, interested exclusively in girls. Outwardly and biologically he is the model of a cisgender heterosexual male. But”—he flipped the pages over and poked at the original MRI results Gaius had shown him—“he has a healthy and functional uterus and ovaries, and”—page flip—“his testes are non-functional, nor does he have vas deferens.”

“Holy shit.”

“Precisely.”

“Is he not transgender then, or a hermaphrodite?”

“No. Transgender individuals feel as though their physical sex does not match their perceived gender identity and intersex, the correct term by the way, individuals have the reproductive organs of both male and female sexes. Patient 22 has a penis and scrotum, a complete lack of vagina or vulvar tissues, and identifies as male.”

“No…” Arthur blushed and hesitated.

“Vagina,” Merlin supplied dryly. “Really, Arthur, you’re a thirty year old man.”

“So then, where…?” again he hesitated.

Merlin sighed heavily and grabbed the notepad and pen once again. Tearing off his beautifully detailed drawing of the human sinus cavities and the olfactory nerves, he started up again with a new drawing.

“This is what the large intestine looks like; anus, rectum, sigmoid colon, descending colon, et cetera. You’re into men, this is stuff you should know intimately. This is what it looks like for every single person I’ve ever met. Except Patient 22.” He ignored Arthur’s mortified expression and pressed on, drawing more lines. “Patient 22 has an additional sphincter here, that is absent in others. It closes off his rectum from the rest of his intestinal tract, and here”—he draws more lines—“is his cervical opening, which is where his uterus attaches.”

“I’m not, you know,” was all Arthur could manage to get out after the barrage of information Merlin had thrown at him.

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “Now what? You’re not what?”

“Into men.” Merlin’s head snapped up at that and he stared openly at Arthur, as if the man had just taken a shit on his office chair. “Or thirty. I’m twenty eight, or I will be tomorrow. And I mean, I’ve slept with men, sure, but I’m romantically straight.”

Merlin burst into hysterical laughter. Arthur scowled which only made Merlin laugh harder.

“You’re romantically constipated, mate, if you can’t say the word vagina in a bloody DOCTOR’S OFFICE.”

Arthur’s anger fizzled and he joined Merlin in laughter.

As the pair finally settled to quiet chuckles, Arthur picked up the case file for Patient 22. “What must this kid’s life be like? You’ve interviewed him for the study, yeah?”

“I have. And the majority of his answers are confidential, I’m sure you’ll understand, but”—he reached for the file to take it back—“he doesn’t menstruate, if that’s something you wondered, he has something similar to a heat cycle a few times a year, which is managed with hormone therapy similar to birth control. I think what’s the worst of it for him is the lack of intimacy.”

Arthur’s brows drew down, questioning.

Merlin sighed and continued, “I shouldn’t tell you this, but it’s not like you know him, but he spent time in a psychiatric hospital for depression and self-harm. He’s never experienced physical pleasure, not even self-induced, and even finds attempts at physical intimacy with Beta women, and his one attempt with a Beta male, to be painful and frustrating.”

Arthur’s face fell serious. “Can’t even have a wank?”

“Never had an erection in his entire life,” Merlin replied. _Until I met you, you infuriating prat._

He cleared his throat and stood to gather the folders. “So, if you’re willing to participate, and possibly your dad, too, I’d like to open a case study for you and analyse your DNA.” Merlin had a belated thought. “Oh, you don’t happen to have extended family, cousins, grandparents or your parents’ siblings, maybe?”

“No grandparents living, I’m afraid. Dad is an only child and Mum had two brothers. My uncle Tristan was a soldier and was killed in the Gulf War. Uncle Agravaine, well, he’s an asshole and is currently in prison for fraud for manipulating my sister, Morgana.”

“Morgana? She would be a half or step sister, then?”

“Half.” _Damn, no Omega genes there, then._

“Well, I don’t suppose we could get at your uncle in prison for his blood, but you’re here now — are you in?”

“I’m in, though I’m pretty sure I don’t have a uterus,” Arthur laughed as he stood up, too.

“Nor do I think you have issues with physical intimacy,” Merlin deadpanned.

“Never once had trouble getting it up, for either a male or a female,” he smirked.

“You know something, Arthur Pendragon? I think I might have just found my first Alpha subject.”

~O~

Merlin chugged the contents of the cup Gwaine handed to him and grimaced at the foul taste and lingering burn. “Oh god, G, it was the worst. He’s such an ass, and an intolerable prat, but fuck me, he’s gorgeous and sexy, and I can’t even believe I managed to control myself for an entire day in his infuriating presence.”

“Well, there was that one moment of weakness in the lift, and I’m pretty sure you asked him out on a date.”

Merlin sat on one of the stools at the kitchen island. “We needed to eat, though,” he groaned feebly.

“Mhm, yeah. So you went to a fancy restaurant and cried about your mum and dad together while holding hands.” Gwaine let out a huff of laughter. “You’re so in love with the King of England, Legs. You’ve been enchanted by his magical Alpha cologne and it won’t be long before the lucky prat has those long legs of yours in the air and your arse drilled through the mattress.”

Merlin dropped his head to the counter top and ran a finger over the wood grain in front of his face. “Gwaine, this isn’t a joke, okay?”

Gwaine came around to stand behind him and rubbed at the knots in his shoulders. As Merlin started to unwind a bit he said, “Talk me through it, Merls. Like old times.” Merlin sagged back against Gwaine’s chest and let him hug him from behind. He sighed heavily after a long drawn out groan.

“Old times, G. That’s what this feels like. The panic and fear is back only worse. Before, when it was Freya, and you, it was fear that I’d never have what everyone else has, you know? I’d never know. I tried so hard with her, and you tried so hard for me.” Gwaine tightened his hold on Merlin and Merlin gripped his forearm to mimic the gesture. “I never once thought I’d actually find someone capable of giving that to me. And here he is, this insufferable prat, with the most gorgeous face I’ve ever laid eyes on, and his voice alone makes me shiver, and he could give me everything I’ve ever wanted in life, but for him I’d be another notch in the headboard, you know? He’d have no reason to see me again, no reason to stay. And I’d be lost again. Only worse off, because I’d have had a taste of paradise.”

Gwaine held him and considered the emotional aspect of Merlin’s situation for a moment. He nudged him forward so he could turn Merlin on the stool to face him.

“What about his instincts, though? I mean, aren’t you driving him just as wild with your sultry Omega scent?” Merlin chewed his lips and thought a moment. “Or,” Gwaine continued, “does the magic potion Nimueh gives you make all that disappear along with your heat?”

Merlin’s brows rose and he pursed his lips as he considered that hypothesis. “Maybe. I need to find out if he can smell me, but how?” The pair of them thought about the options, brainstorming together over a dinner of pizza and beer, and coming up with a list of ways for each scenario to fail.

Frustrated and full, they gave up and switched on the telly to watch a DVD — one of Gwaine’s favourite 80s classics, The Lost Boys — “All that glorious 80s hair, mate. Look at it.” As Jason Patric's character was being attacked by the dog, Merlin’s phone rang in the familiar tone assigned to his mum.

Gwaine paused the flick as Merlin answered and got up to grab two more beers. He returned a moment later flailing his arms at Merlin who scowled at him as he tried to focus on what his mum was telling him — something about his Uncle Gaius’ birthday dinner on the weekend — and kicked feebly at Gwaine to shoo him away. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the phone from Merlin’s hand.

“Oi!” he protested.

“Shut up,” he muttered before putting the phone to his ear and spreading a shit-eating grin all over his face. “Hunith! My darling, how is my very favourite lass in all the land?” He stuck his tongue out at Merlin who had begun to pout childishly at him. “Aw, you know the only way I could be any better than I already am? If you would be my lovely bride. Listen, I’ve got it on good authority that Merlin won’t ask you this, so I’ve commandeered the phone to do it for him. Hmm? Yes, I know, he’s so stubborn, this boy of ours, isn’t he? Right. So, Hunith, Merlin has found a potential Alpha and needs your assistance at the lab. No, no, his virtue is intact, poor thing, ow!”

Gwaine scooted away from Merlin who had begun slapping at him like a girl.

“The thing is, love, the bloke can’t smell him. We don’t know for certain, but think because of the shots he takes. Right! So, I am proposing a controlled environment meeting for the two of you, to see if he does, in fact, smell your lovely bouquet of Omeganess. Perfect! I’ll let Merlin make the arrangements and I will see you on Saturday at Gaius’ place! Love you too, you smooth talker. Here’s the other man in your life back,” with that he smooched into the speaker and threw the phone back at Merlin who stood on the other side of the sofa with a look of sheer horror on his face.

Before lifting the phone to his ear to deal with his mother’s reaction to the news, he spat out to Gwaine, “I’m shaving your bloody head, you miserable twat.”

~O~

Arthur: Dr. Emrys, How long does the analysis of one’s blood take, in general? – A. Pendragon

Merlin: Ugh. Who gave you my cell number? I need to know so I can eviscerate them.

A: I believe her name is Mithian something or other. Petite brunette thing. I think she might work for the King of England.

M: Ahh yes, His Royal Pratness.

A: That’s not a word, Melrin.

M: Who’s Melrin?

A: Merlin.

M: Yes Arthur?

A: Shut. Up.

M: :D

A: I didn’t realize you were a teenaged girl, Merlin.

M: Makes you realize what a giant pervert you are, eh?

A: You. Kissed. Me.

M: So you seem to enjoy reminding me.

A: And you liked it.

M: It will likely take 2 weeks for a full analysis and cross comparison with the DNA of the 2 Omegas in the study. And I’d still like to get a sample of your dad’s blood.

A: I love it when you talk nerdy to me.

M: Arthur.

A: Yes, Merlin?

M: I have work to do. Let me know if/when your dad can come in to give blood.

Merlin put the phone down to pick up with his paperwork where he’d left off when Arthur had first texted him. The second he’d settled, it rang. With a frown he glanced at the screen and grinned involuntarily as he saw it was Arthur. “You know,” he answered, “I am a very busy scientist with sciencey things to do.”

“Sciencey isn’t a word, Merlin.” He could hear Arthur’s disapproving scowl through the speaker and felt his cheeks dimpling with glee.

 _Stop that, face._ “Is so. Call Mr. Oxford. I heard it’s going in the latest revision of his Big Book of British Words.”

Arthur chuckled quietly and softly said, “Idiot.”

“Clotpole.”

“What?”

“Clotpole. And really, Arthur, it’s ‘I beg your pardon’ not ‘what’. You’ve terrible manners for royalty.”

“Speaking of royalty, he won’t come in.”

“Who won’t? Bonnie Prince Charlie? I didn’t send him an invite.”

“No, my father — the actual King of England, I’m just the Crown Prince, you know.”

“Oh, is that all?” Merlin tried to hide his smile. “That’s too bad about your father, though. I could really use him in my study, and to study the enigma of why you’re such a prat.”

“What if you came to him? He’s a bit of a recluse and temperamental. But nurses come to the house to see him. We could tell him you’re one of them, and that you’re doing blood work to help adjust his medication. I could get him to answer as many questions for your study as possible, to help build his file.”

“Are you asking this busy sciencey scientist to drop his sciencey stuff and come over to trick your poor ailing father into participating unwillingly in a fertility and genetics screening study?”

There was a pause.

“Bring a stethoscope and wear a lab coat when you come.” Merlin’s brows rose slightly, though he knew Arthur couldn’t see his expression. He could almost hear Arthur blushing.

“Come OVER, I mean.”

Merlin smirked. “Wear doctor costume when playing doctor at Arthur’s house. Check.”

“Shut up Merlin.”

He chuckled, “You really are a giant perv, Arthur.” With a sigh he stared at the heap of print outs he needed to review from Arthur’s blood sample. “Text me the when and where and I will COME over to play doctor. I really have to get back to work though.”

Twenty minutes later, his phone beeped at him with a new message.

A: Monday morning at 10, okay? He’s most lucid in the morning.

M: Yes, Sire.

A: How does one roll one’s eyes via text? I have it on good authority that you’re actually a teenaged girl and should know these things.

M: Oh my god, Arthur. I thought you had a kingdom to run — minions to manage. I’m trying to be sciencey!!

A: :P

M: Tell your PA I’m going to actually throttle her.

A: You could stop replying, you know.

M: Goodbye Arthur. I will see you Monday morning. Try not to miss me too much, you clotpole.

A: No, you hang up.

M: Now who’s the teenaged girl?

A: See you Monday, my super straight sciencey scientist friend.

Merlin did his absolute best not to swoon, but no matter how much he tried, he hadn’t the willpower for that. He melted into his desk with a sigh and reread their entire exchange four times before shaking himself out of it and getting back to work.

_I need Freya to get back here and slap some sense into me._

_~O~_

It was Merlin’s sincere hope to keep the topic of Arthur Pendragon’s Alpha existence off the table at Gaius’s birthday dinner, but Hunith had already told the guest of honour, and Merlin spent the evening being badgered, warned, teased, and encouraged about his interactions with the man.

Gaius was intrigued as one of Merlin’s doctors, wanting to know all of the details of Merlin’s reactions to him. Hunith was nervous for her son and for herself at the prospect of a face-to-face meeting with him, but Merlin assured her that he had come up with a way to gather information and observe without jeopardising anyone’s safety or sanity.

Gwaine just waggled his eyebrows suggestively every time Merlin blushed when talking about Arthur, causing Merlin to kick him in the shin beneath the table, repeatedly.

“Just,” his mother cautioned, “watch your heart, Merlin.”

“He’s a total ass, mum. Have no fear,” he laughed.

“Yes,” she sighed, “I can see how much of an ass you truly think he is when your entire face lights up at the thought of him. Merlin, when you’re not in the presence of an Alpha, you shouldn’t blush when you think of him.” He swallowed back a gulp of unease. “And it IS written all over your face when you think of him. Something about him pleases you. I will come next week and meet the man, for your research, but please, Merlin. Be careful.”

He nodded solemnly and took her words to heart, and if Gwaine felt he was unusually quiet on the train ride back into the city, he never said a word.

~O~

After giving the address to the cabbie, Merlin lugged the bag of equipment onto the seat beside him. He zoned out and thought of his mother's warning as he tried to prepare to be in the same room with two Alphas.

_She’s right, you knob._

He grabbed his phone and shot off a quick text to Percival.

Merlin: Have time for a lunch date with an old friend this week?

Percival: Not lunch, but Kay and I were just thinking that you and Gwaine were long overdue for a dinner at our place. Thursday?

M: Thursday works. Can I leave G at home, though? I need to talk to you, and G’s hair gets in the way.

P: Haha, of course. You okay?

M: Not sure. I’m hoping you can help me figure that out.

P: Of course. See you Thursday.

M: Cheers.

He tucked his phone away and paled as the taxicab pulled up to a gated estate. Lush ivy had partially covered the front of the manor. The perfectly manicured English garden sat in splendour in the midst of the lawn.

“You sure this is the place, man?” the driver asked dubiously.

“Yeah,” he gulped. “The Royal Residence.”

He paid the man and grabbed his bag from the back. He fished out his lab ID badge and stethoscope and smirked as he draped the instrument across his shoulders and headed for the door.

It was a stern black, with white detailing and a semicircular window at the top. Painted in the centre was a large red P behind the figure of a golden dragon door knocker.

_Figures._

Before he could knock, the door swung open and Arthur was there, dressed in jeans and a white tee shirt with bare feet. Merlin’s brain shut off at the sight, having only seen him in a suit before now. His scent hit Merlin and his knees buckled.

“Lead the way, Your Majesty,” he bit out once he’d recovered and noticed Arthur’s smirk.

“He’s in a foul mood this morning, so I apologise in advance,” he whispered over his shoulder as he led Merlin through the foyer toward an open set of double doors.

Through the doorway, Merlin could see the salon was richly appointed with heavy and ornate furniture, large wall tapestries, and a fireplace as big as his entire flat. Gripping the handle of his bag, he tried not to gawk like a tourist.

Arthur padded across the plush carpeting to the man sitting in a wingback chair by the terrace doors. “Father, this is Doctor Emrys, he has come to take some blood and ask a few questions about your health.” He turned to introduce him and noticed Merlin was practically green. His eyes widened in alarm, but Merlin shook his head mutely and indicated he was fine.

“Edwin never said anything about this. I won’t. Get out,” he said turning to Merlin. His guts turned to jelly at the command, but he held his ground valiantly.

“Doctor Muirden mentioned it to me, Father. You were asleep after his last visit, remember? It’s fine.”

Merlin stood awkwardly and tried not to faint from holding his breath. “Hello, Mr. Pendragon, how are you this morning?” he croaked out through a forced smile. Steel grey eyes glared in response.

_Oh god, don’t eat me._

Merlin tried to meet his gaze, but found he felt very small and very threatened by it. “It’s a lovely day.” He moved to the terrace doors. “Let’s let in some fresh air, shall we?” He shoved the doors as wide as he could without waiting for permission and gasped heavily at the garden air.

“Are you suffering from some sort of mental affliction, boy?”

Merlin gulped. “Probably,” he muttered.

“Father, be polite. Merlin just needs to take a blood sample to check your levels. Edwin said he might need to adjust your dosage.” He gave Merlin a grim smile then, to apologise for his father’s rude behaviour.

Merlin dragged an ottoman to Arthur’s father and tried very hard not to stare as he sat. Or breathe. His scent was much sharper, almost bitter, but no less overwhelming.

He prepared the vials, alcohol swab, cotton ball, plaster, and tourniquet, before reaching for the needle. Blood rushed through his veins, making him dizzy. He could feel both sets of eyes drilling through his skin as he worked. All the while mustering the confidence to ask questions he’d need to flesh out the information that Arthur had already provided.

_Don’t do this, Merlin. Keep it together._

In the end, he’d simply drawn the vials of blood and labelled them in silence, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Thank you, sir,” was all he managed to get out before hastily packing his things and nearly running for the door.

“Merlin, wait,” Arthur had called quietly to him. He stopped with his heart pounding out of his chest and filling his ears, roaring.

“I’m sorry. I’m...,” he stammered, his breathing ragged, chest heaving.

Arthur caught him by an elbow as he faltered and steered him through the corridors to the kitchen. It was also a massive affair with gleaming copper fixtures and a large and angry looking cook. “Sit,” he ordered and Merlin’s guts churned as he obeyed.

Arthur ignored the cook’s protest at the invasion of her kitchen and filled a glass of water and thrust it into Merlin’s hand. “Drink.” He then turned to the ice box and began gathering ice into a tea towel and returned to hold it to the back of Merlin’s neck.

After a moment Merlin managed to whisper, “Front pocket. Bag. Pills. Two, please.”

Arthur dropped the ice pack on the counter and rifled through the bag for the medication Merlin had asked for. He shook two of the tiny pills into his palm and held them out for him to take. Merlin’s hands were shaking and tears had started rolling over his cheeks. He couldn’t focus to even pick up the pills.

“Here,” Arthur whispered as he urged Merlin’s head to tilt back slightly and he gently poked the two pills into his mouth with his fingers. “Drink,” he ordered again, more softly than before, and held the glass to Merlin’s mouth for him.

After a moment of staring at him with obvious concern, he asked, “Can you walk?” Merlin nodded feebly.

Arthur hauled him up under the arms and supported him as he led him through the house once more to what appeared to be an office or a sitting room. He laid Merlin down on the small sofa to one side and then opened the windows. After a minute of tidying the desk space, Arthur dragged the chair around to sit before Merlin.

“I’ll be okay in a minute. Just”—he nodded at the door—“go make sure your dad is okay for me. I sort of did that on autopilot.”

“Right.” Arthur strode out of the room leaving Merlin alone to let the last of his panic attack wash away in peace.

_You really are an idiot, Merlin._

He got up and stood next to the window, looking out over a different flowerbed than the one he’d seen at the front of the house. Deep breaths helped to clear out his lungs and head from the heady aroma that was Alpha. Tall bookcases lined the wall opposite the door; massive tomes displayed on the shelves. Mostly economics and finance books, Merlin noted. There was a small table beside the sofa he’d been lying on, with a crystal decanter and two glasses on it. He opened the decanter to sniff gently. _Smells like socks._ He stoppered it again quickly.

When Arthur returned, Merlin was standing before the bookcases, looking at a framed photograph of a stunning young woman. Merlin didn’t need to ask to know for certain that this was Arthur’s mother.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispered when he felt Arthur’s body heat at his back.

“Mm,” he murmured. “I wish I had even one memory of her, you know? Is it like that for you too?”

“Sometimes. He’s not someone I’d ever thought of as real? Mum doesn’t even have a photo of him. I was about ten years old before it dawned on me that I should even have a dad.”

“She’s a good mum, then? Loving?” Arthur asked with a small voice, surprising Merlin with its hint of wistful longing. He turned to look into Arthur’s eyes and was not surprised to find them fixed on the photo on the shelf.

“The very best. I never knew how little we had, or how lonely she was? We were each other’s whole world. Wasn’t it like that with him?” he asked, nodding his head toward the other end of the house where Arthur's father still sat.

“When he lost her, they say he lost his ability to love. I was raised by nannies while he built a massive company. I suppose they loved me in their way, though. But I don’t think it is the same.” He lifted his eyes to meet Merlin’s and his breath caught in his throat. “You scared me,” he said, low and quiet.

Merlin’s insides liquefied. He was stricken to the core by the genuine and open expression on Arthur’s face. His Royal Pratness had vanished, leaving the man before him, simply Arthur. It took his breath away.

“I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

Arthur took his hand gently in his and asked, “Are you alright?”

“I just got overwhelmed in there. You and your father potentially hold the key to unlocking the rest of my research and I just...” He swallowed. “I felt like...” He hesitated, closing his eyes.

“Like you were standing in the astounding shadow of your entire purpose in life?” Arthur supplied. Merlin nodded. “You carry pills for it. Does that happen often?”

“Not really, anymore. I have an anxiety disorder. The things that trigger my panic attacks vary. I didn’t expect meeting your father to be so terrifying, or I’d have taken pills beforehand.” Arthur held Merlin’s jaw, stroked his thumb over his cheekbone, and stared into his eyes.

“Arthur, I’m sorry, about your mother, your childhood, I mean,” Merlin said quietly.

“I was never meant to have anything of hers and I’ve had a very long time to understand and accept that.”

Merlin frowned. He pushed Arthur gently and turned him to face the wall behind the table holding the decanter and glasses. A narrow mirror hung on the wall there, and Arthur studied his reflection while Merlin stood behind him. Just as Arthur had done at the bookcase.

“Look, Arthur,” he said softly. “Do you see her?” The blond brows drew down, nearly scowling. “No,” Merlin chided. “Look at yourself how you look at me.”

Arthur let his eyes glide over to look at Merlin’s reflection above his shoulder. Merlin smiled warmly, shyly even, and as Arthur’s scowl relaxed, he slid his eyes back to look at himself. Merlin heard him gasp slightly by what he saw.

“There, Arthur. That’s her.”

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and Merlin dropped his gaze to give Arthur a moment of privacy but kept his hold on his hand, not wanting to let go.

After a moment he turned and Arthur tipped Merlin’s chin up with his free hand and stared into his dark blue eyes once again. Merlin’s heart swelled as he returned Arthur’s gaze, his pulse racing again. Arthur’s eyes dropped momentarily to his mouth.

_Oh help._

The hand under his chin shifted to cup along his jaw, fingertips just beneath his ear, and Arthur pulled him gently towards him to press his lips softly against Merlin’s. He relaxed into the kiss, surrendering himself fully to it, despite the gentle chasteness of it. When it finally broke, he rested his forehead against Arthur’s.

“I should go,” he whispered. Arthur didn’t let go. “I have to get your dad’s blood to the lab.”

Arthur sighed against Merlin’s cheek and straightened his posture, pulling slightly away. “Of course. I’ll page for a car to take you back.”

He let go of Merlin and reached for his phone to make the arrangement. Merlin busied himself with making sure his bag was properly repacked now that his anxiety attack was over, and swallowed back his regret that it had happened at all, especially in Arthur’s presence.

“I’d like you to stop by the office on Wednesday afternoon, if you can. I should have results by then of your stuff, and want to try an experiment with one of the other members of the study.” Arthur’s brows rose at that and he nodded.

Merlin hitched his bag up over his shoulder and moved through the house toward the front door, trying to sort out his thoughts as he walked, but it was no use. Arthur hadn’t tried to kiss him again, but shyly said he was looking forward to Wednesday as Merlin opened the car door when it pulled up.

He’d dimpled at him in response and said, “I’ll see you then.”

All he could think about in the car on the way back were Arthur’s words ‘romantically straight’. He wasn’t an expert, but nothing about that kiss felt like he was only angling for a shag based on their first kiss. His stomach fluttered heavily the entire ride back to his office and he was vaguely aware of the dopey grin plastered to his face.

_I do believe, as Gwaine would say, you’re arse over tit for the prat._

_~O~_

Kay greeted Merlin at the door, offering a smooch to each cheek as he took the bottle of red wine from his hands. “Welcome, love. Perce is out back grilling. Toss your jacket on a hook and come give me a hand with the table.”

He grabbed the cutlery and dishes and laid them out at their customary places, leaving Gwaine’s seat empty. Merlin had felt guilty about excluding him but knew this was a conversation he needed to have on his own. Gwaine had always been a lay it all out on the table kind of person, figuring the more heads involved the better the brainstorming. Merlin usually agreed, but when it came to Arthur, he wanted Gwaine’s opinions out of the conversation.

“Perce says you’ve got a puzzle to be sorted. Is it something you we can both help with, or should I retreat after dinner and let you two hash it out? I’ve made your chocolate pie for pudding in any case. If this is a medical thing, I can take my wee slice and head for the hills.”

Merlin looked at Kay, a head shorter than himself and almost a miniature human when next to his beloved husband. He’d gone salt and pepper at the temples over the years, the dimple in his chin now buried under salt and pepper stubble. He was handsome and kind, and Merlin had come to love and cherish his friendship over the last decade just as he had Percival’s.

He opened the bottle of wine and started to pour before he answered. “Kay, how are you so bloody perfect?” The older man snorted and waved a hand at Merlin in dismissal as he opened the garden door to let Percival in, carrying a platter of grilled meat and vegetables.

Once his hands were free, he scooped Merlin into a tight hug and slapped him on the back warmly. “Alright?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, his smile falling a bit lopsided.

They took their places around the table and started to serve up the meal, commenting about the mouth-watering smells coming from their plates.

“Look,” he began, “I thought I just needed medical advice, Perce, but now that I’m here, this is really about relationship advice, and I’d love to have the advice of the only ‘old married couple’ I actually know.”

Kay looked touched and Percival looked surprised. “Relationship advice?”

Merlin blew out his cheeks. “Right. So in order for Kay to fully understand my situation, he sort of needs to know the basics of why I was in your care medically.”

“Merlin,” Kay interrupted setting down his fork. “Please don’t feel you need to disclose your personal information to me. I am perfectly understanding that your health is private, and don’t want to intrude. Percival is fully capable of speaking for us both, and I trust him to advise you in whatever situation you’re in.” He grasped Percival’s hand next to him and reached across for Merlin’s.

Merlin let out a small chuckle and shook his head at himself. “Lesson one, trust the one you love with your voice. Thank you.”

“I just want to know one thing,” Kay implored.

“Sure?”

“What’s her name?”

Merlin swallowed thickly against the lump of food stuck in his throat. He felt himself blushing as he cleared his throat and said, “Arthur.”

Kay’s brows nearly leapt off his face. “Arthur? Funny name for a girl, Merlin,” he teased. “No wonder you wanted to come and talk to us!”

Percival leaned forward on his elbows, pointing his fork at Merlin. “You’ve been down this road with Gwaine, Merlin. I seem to recall it not going overly well.”

“Right. I know. Trust me, I know.” He took a deep drink from his glass of wine. “I love Gwaine, and you both know that. He’s the best person I have in my life, but romantically, we just...” He gestured vaguely. “Well, he’s the wrong type of person for me.”

“Romantically Gwaine isn’t anyone’s type of person, Merlin. That boy is the one night stand you never forget. He’s not the kind you bring home to mum,” Kay laughed, and the others joined in.

“Oh god, I know. I brought him home to mum and he’s been trying to shag her ever since, the pervert!” They all laughed heartily, without shame, knowing Gwaine would be the first to admit it, and proudly. “But,” he continued, “Arthur _is_ the right type of person for me.” He looked pointedly at Percival, willing him to understand what he was implying. “But I’m maybe confused and conflicted about how I feel, and how he might feel, which is why I’ve come to you two.”

“How sure are you?” Percival seemed wary.

“That he’s the right type? One hundred percent, tested and verified in my lab.”

Kay kept quiet, but Merlin knew he was confused.

“The main issue is this, the medication Caroline has me on has masked my identity a bit- it’s suppressed everything about me that makes me who I am. Arthur has no idea. He doesn’t even know this entire concept exists, Perce.”

Percival leaned back in his chair, moving how now empty plate away from himself. “Merlin, do you want to continue this conversation as a trio or should we wait until after coffee and pudding and go for a walk?”

Before he could answer, Kay stood. “Go for a walk. This is something that I’d need to be briefed on before I could contribute, yes?” Merlin nodded. “Right, I’ll clear this away, and start the coffee. Your time is precious and I’d rather you spend it problem solving this together than trying to keep me up to speed.”

Once things were cleared away, Percival wrapped the leftover chocolate pie for Merlin to take home, he kissed his husband goodbye and led the way down the street for a walk. Merlin stuffed his hands in the front pocket of his jeans, enjoying the warm summer evening.

Once they’d rounded their first corner, Percival broke the silence. “Spill. Everything.”

“Right,” he sighed, and filled his lungs.

He recounted their meeting at the wedding and their day together at the lab. He talked about their emails and texts, and how tender and caring Arthur had been during his anxiety attack. He explained about Arthur’s overwhelming scent, how it made his knees watery and his stomach feel hollow, and worse than that, how the touch of his skin on his, his mouth especially, made him feel like he was simultaneously flying and dying, and how both of those sensations were the most incredible thing he’d ever felt.

“I did an anonymous test with him and mum yesterday at the lab, you know, to see if he was influenced by her pheromones.”

“And?”

“I had to restrain him, which he hated, but quickly realised was necessary. Then I had them blindfolded and asked them to spend a moment considering what they were experiencing being in the same room together, running over the senses, in a way. I had them each recite a few lines of poetry to hear one another’s voices, and had them touch hands for an extended period of time, then once they were separated I had them record what they experienced. Arthur’s descriptions were intense, Percival. Even though Mum says her Bond with my Da would somehow mark her as unavailable to another Alpha, Arthur described feelings of intense desire, almost hunger-like. The timbre of her voice sounded like song to him, her scent almost drugged him.”

“Jesus, so this is all really true, this Omega stuff?” Merlin gave him a lopsided look. “No, no, I know. I mean, you have dedicated your life to unlocking this mystery, and I’ve never met anyone quite as driven as you are, but it all seemed so”—he waved his hands around—“fantastic, I guess. Surreal.”

“Anyway, my concern is this: he doesn’t smell me, or seem to react to me like he did to Mum. I called Caroline and she agrees that the likelihood of the hormone therapy interfering with my ability to send those types of signals to Alpha males is masking my nature from Arthur. I can only assume then, that the attention he directs to me is not based on the Alpha/Omega aspect.”

“Well, based on what you’re describing of your interactions for the last two weeks, he’s into you for you. That’s not a bad thing, Merlin!”

“He says he doesn’t date men, though, despite being bisexual. I don’t want to be a conquest to him, you know? I don’t want to sleep with him knowing that’s all he wants from me. And then there’s the stupid matter of my own attraction. How much of what I’m feeling for him is instinctual? This is where I am confused. How do I know if I genuinely like this prat?”

Percival let out a hearty laugh, holding his belly. “Oh god, Merlin.” He slapped his other hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Is he here now? Are you currently being drugged by his scent or feeling drawn by the sound of his voice?” He sheepishly bit his lips and shook his head. “No. He’s not and you’re not under any influence of his, except that you’re clearly mad for him. It’s written all over your face. Arse over tit, kid.”

Merlin pinked and ducked his head. “S’what Gwaine and Mum said, too.”

“Look, I’ve known you through all of this shite, right? Since day one. I’ve watched you blather on and on about Freya before you ever had the nerve to ask her out on a date. I’ve seen the thing you and Gwaine have, and I watched you both fall apart when it didn’t work. But I know how badly you wanted it to work, how hard it’s been for you both to get past it and rebuild your relationship to what you’ve got now. I’ve seen you in what you _thought_ was love, Merlin. I’ve watched you these last ten years grow into an amazing man, and a brilliant scientist, but emotionally you’re still blind as a bat, you daft thing.”

He swung his arms around Merlin, drawing him into a tight all-encompassing hug. “Don’t doubt what you’re feeling for Arthur. He’s the key to your locked mystery, love. And as for his casual sex with men, thing — people change, especially for those they love. Be patient.”

They walked on then making their way back in silence as Merlin reflected on what Percival had said and how Arthur made him feel. Kay was sitting in the front window with a cup of coffee and a book and smiled up at them as they walked through the gate.

“Perce?” Merlin reached for his sleeve to stop him. When he turned to face him, brows questioning, Merlin whispered, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, kiddo. Just keep me posted.” He opened the door and shucked off his shoes. “And we’re always here if you need us, for anything.”

Kay appeared to send Merlin off with a hug and kiss, holding the wrapped pie. “Especially if you need desserts.”

  
  



	4. Pictures of You

**July 2011**

 

Merlin had been watching the footage of the session between Arthur and his mother, analysing their reactions and body language, when his phone chirped.

Arthur: Merlin.

He blushed as if he’d been caught red handed jerking off in his office, but really, the image of Arthur, restrained and aroused, was enough to make his skin prickle with sheer desire. He shook himself and steeled his emotions to keep the conversation light and professional.

Merlin: Correct, this is Merlin. How’d you guess?

A: I cheated.

M: Naughty.

_Ugh. So much for professional._

M:What can I do for you today, Sire?

A: You know, after our little bondage session last week, I’m fairly certain you’re the boss.

Merlin’s face flamed bright red.

M: Oh god. I should never have done that experiment.

A: The experiment where the incredibly hot man dressed as a doctor tied me to a chair, blindfolded me, tortured me with the most insanely tempting smells and sounds, and then left me alone in a room, rock hard and panting, still tied to a chair until he saw fit to untie me and then shove me out the door without any aftercare whatsoever all in the name of science? That experiment?

M: Jesus, Arthur. Get your kink under control, man.

A: Can I come by tomorrow for another session, Master?

His hands trembled and his mouth watered at the idea.

_Keep it together, you moron._

M: I can’t stop you from visiting. You own 90% of the contents of this building. But only good boys get the chair.

_Fuck._

A: And how exactly am I supposed to work with this erection, Merlin?

M: Let it serve as a reminder to be a good boy.

_What the actual fuck, Emrys???_

He couldn’t keep his fingers from pressing send, nor could he keep the smile from his face when he read the reply.

A: See you tomorrow, Boss.

Gwaine had laughed at him as he nervously got ready for work, throwing multiple discarded outfits onto his bed like a teenager trying to decide what to wear on a date. Freya, despite still being in her honeymoon bubble, had even commented on how nice Merlin looked and asked if he had plans after work. He blushed and brushed them both off and tried to work without watching the door.

Arthur had never said what time he’d be showing up, nor what he’d really be stopping by for, and Merlin spent the entire morning on edge and unable to focus.

“I’m going for a walk.” Merlin jumped a mile. Freya had appeared in his office door without him seeing her. She smiled at his startled face. “Want to come along?”

“Are you going to talk about your super selfish vacation without me?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Because, then no.”

“Come on Merlin. It’s a gorgeous day out, it’s nearly lunch and you can get a chocolate popsicle from the trolley in the park.”

“Damn you, temptress. You leave chocolate popsicles out of this. I’ve got work to do. Very interesting work.” He shuffled papers on his desk, which were not at all what he should have been working on, and tried to pretend he’d actually been doing anything productive. “Things happened while you were gone, you know. Interesting things for my interesting work. So you go for your walk alone. Take all the time you need, actually. You must be exhausted from having all that tanned skin now. You should maybe go home and rest.”

Freya’s brows climbed her forehead. “Merlin,” she drawled, “are you trying to get rid of me?” He gulped. “MERLIN EMRYS, DO YOU HAVE A DATE?”

_Oh god, her excited kitten face. Fix it! Fix the face!!_

“I don’t date, Freya. Really, you of all people should know this.” He stood abruptly and turned his back on her, pretending to file the papers he’d pretended to work on.

“Let’s see, fancy clothes? Check. Hair actually styled with product? Check. Fidgety and unable to focus? Check. Watching the door like a hawk? Check. Trying to get rid of the ex? Check. You’re fooling no one, Merlin. You’re expecting someone you fancy. I bet you’ve even been eating mints all morning to hide your coffee breath.” Merlin glanced at her through his lashes and bit his lips. “I knew it! You flirt. Who is it?”

“Who is what?” Arthur strode through the lab toward them, startling Freya.

“Oh! Hello again. Arthur, was it? You came with Mithian to my wed– OH MY GOD MERLIN!” Freya’s head whipped back around to face him with her eyes as big as saucers.

He stood there, dumbly, trying not to faint at the sight of Arthur smirking behind Freya in his dove grey suit, looking like a bloody god.

“That’s right. Arthur Pendragon. Lovely to formally meet you, Doctor...” He hesitated, hand outstretched, unsure if Freya had planned to take her husband’s name.

“Freya will do, Arthur. Thank you.” She shook his hand pleasantly but shot a death glare at Merlin before turning to leave. “I’ll just go for that walk then, shall I Merlin? A long one, you’d said? Should probably go home and rest, didn’t you say?”

He telepathically and emphatically wished her a slow and painful death as he smiled and waved goodbye to her. As Arthur turned his gorgeous blue eyes to meet his, Merlin equally emphatically wished Freya would come back. He swallowed thickly and sat abruptly atop his desk.

_Oh, help._

“I was thinking of asking you to join me for lunch, but since you’ve cleared the office, I think we should stay in.” He’d walked toward Merlin and, placing his hands on either side of his hips on the desk, leaned forward into Merlin’s space. “You look good enough to eat, Doctor Emrys. Mind if I taste?”

His guts quivered as the prat turned his head slightly and flicked the tip of his hot tongue against Merlin’s throat. He jumped off the desk, shoving Arthur away from him, which was misinterpreted as play, not panic.

“Like it rough, eh?” Arthur smirked.

“Stop.” He forced enough fire into the word to wipe the look from Arthur’s face. “Why did you come here, Arthur?”

“I thought I’d been fairly clear about my reasoning, don’t you think?”

“And I thought I’d been fairly clear about my sexual orientation.”

“So you seem to think, Merlin. But your mouth, that gorgeous pouty mouth, says one thing, and your body, that long, lean and hard body, says something entirely different.”

He moved into Merlin’s space again and softly traced his fingertip over his lips. Without any permission from his brain whatsoever, they parted, and his tongue came out to greet it.

Arthur smiled softly. “You see, Merlin?” He pushed his fingertip just past his lips, over his soft tongue. “I think you want what I want, but you’re ashamed to admit it. I spent all afternoon hard in my office just thinking about you.” He pulled his finger free from Merlin’s lips and cupped his own groin through his trousers. “It was blissful torture. When I finally got home, I tore off my clothes and came so hard in the shower I almost blacked out.” He snaked an arm around Merlin’s waist, pulling him close and pressing their groins together through the fabric.

Merlin’s eyes were glassed over, his breathing shuddered, and his knees had gone completely weak as Arthur talked to him and touched him. He couldn’t be certain, but he thought he may have whimpered once or twice — especially at the sight of Arthur cupping his growing cock between their bodies.

“You can’t convince me you don’t want me, Merlin,” he cooed into the shell of his ear. “You’re trembling.” His tongue snaked out and traced around the edge of it.

That seemed to snap Merlin out of it. His whole body tensed, and he placed his palms firmly against Arthur’s chest, pushing him back.

“You’re wrong. Stop it, Arthur. Now.”

“God, Merlin.” He paced away from him. “Why are you being so goddamned coy?” He shot an accusatory glare at him that caused Merlin to internally wilt.

“Coy? Is that what you call it?” He crossed his arms, as frustrated as Arthur with their situation. “I’d call it self-preservation.”

“What?” Arthur actually let out an exasperated laugh at that. “In what bloody world is this type of behaviour an act of self-preservation? You’re a bloody cock tease and you’re driving us both mental.”

Merlin clenched his jaw tight at the accusation, but could not deny its validity. Through teeth clamped tight in an attempt to keep from yelling, he said, “You don’t date men, Arthur.” He snapped his head up to look at Merlin then, raising his brows, demanding more. “And I don’t fuck them.”

Arthur’s face took on that smug self-satisfied look he got when he got his way. “Ah, yes. I keep forgetting, Merlin.” He crossed the narrow office to crowd into Merlin’s personal space once again, enjoying the host of emotions flitting across his features as he did. “You’re straight.”

Merlin swallowed, but did not shy away from him. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

Pressing in to hover his mouth tantalizingly near Merlin’s ear again, Arthur breathed, “Enlighten me.” Closing his eyes, Merlin shifted slightly, but did not pull away.

“I’m scared, Arthur.”

He froze. Those were not the words he’d been expecting, and he pulled back to stare into Merlin’s face, as if willing him to open his eyes again, to see into their depths. When he did, Merlin held his gaze, firm and defiant.

“Did it ever occur to you that after twenty-four years of exclusively being interested in women, to suddenly want something else so intensely, so passionately... it’s not just as simple as jumping in with both feet?”

“So you do want me, then?” He seemed genuinely unsure and the sight of it made Merlin want to hold him and comfort him and take away all doubt.

“Arthur, I don’t want a shag. I want you.” _Oh god, this is it, now or never._ “But you don’t date men, you said so yourself, and you don’t deny that’s what you want from me.” He wanted to cry; he could feel his heart breaking. “I don’t sleep around and don’t plan to start. What I feel for you is huge, Arthur, bigger than I’ve ever experienced. I had a taste of it last week in your study – that kiss, the moment with the photograph of your mother. But I don’t want a taste of it. I want it all or not at all.”

Arthur pulled away from him then, only slightly, but enough that Merlin could feel his blood rush, seeking that heat once again. “You really are a big dramatic girl, aren’t you Merlin?” He scoffed and backed away fully. The insult enraged him, and he stalked after Arthur, face red with fury.

“Not. A. Girl.” He nearly spat the words, startling Arthur. “Damn you to hell, Arthur Bloody Pendragon, you arrogant Alpha prat! I am NOT a girl! I’m an Omega! I’m bloody Patient 22, you thick-headed clotpole!” He stood before Arthur, breath huffing out of him in angry bursts, with his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

“I can’t breathe around you because your pheromones are suffocating and intoxicating. When you touch me I burn up to ashes and feel like a single puff of your breath will take me apart. My body begs for your body, and I cannot reconcile that desire with the compilation of evidence I have that you’re actually a massive and insufferable prat on a bloody good day. I cannot imagine what you’re like on a bad one, Arthur, but for some bloody reason, I want to bloody know, because I have never wanted anything so much in my life as I want you, you gorgeous piece of shit!”

“Omega,” Arthur breathed out as he let himself fall heavily into the chair behind him, completely forgetting that it was an ergonomic ball. His bum hit it, and he was launched awkwardly sideways to the floor landing with an indignant grunt. Mirth combining with his rage, Merlin burst out in hysterical laughter at the spectacle of the ever so posh Prince Pratness in a heap of limbs and confusion on his office floor. “Shut up, Merlin.”

With a snort, Merlin pulled Arthur to his feet and tried very hard to quash his amusement. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“For what, exactly, because by my count you’ve an awful lot to apologise for, and I’m not sure you even realise it, Merlin.”

He took as deep a breath as he could without swooning from Arthur’s scent, which was sharper now with his anger and frustration. “I’m sorry that I laughed. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry that I told you like I just did, in a fit of anger and with no warning.”

Arthur moved around the desk, away from Merlin, rubbing a palm through his hair, matting it slightly, as if the thoughts he were having were painful. Merlin stood still, holding his breath, waiting.

“Who else knows?” He slumped down, defeated, into the small leather chair he’d occupied on his first visit to Merlin’s office.

Merlin moved to sit across from him on the rubber ball, causing Arthur’s eyes to narrow menacingly at it as he did. With a heavy sigh Merlin answered, “My mum, who was obviously Patient 15 whom I had you meet last week, my uncle, who is also one of my doctors, my other doctors and my therapist, Will, Freya, and Gwaine. Oh, and my friend Percival, but not his husband Kay – matter of patient confidentiality, he’d been my nurse as a teen.”

Arthur pinched his nose between his eyes. “Can I see your file again, please?” Merlin hesitated for a moment, trying to read Arthur’s tone. He seemed impassive, and Merlin feared he was shutting down. He rose to the filing cabinet and retrieved his folder quickly. Before handing it over, he hugged it to his chest protectively for a moment. “Please, Merlin?”

He handed it over and sat silently as Arthur scanned the pages one at a time, pausing here and there to look at him as if he weren’t able to see the scrutiny in his eyes. Merlin held onto his desk, willing himself to wait silently for questions, for he was certain there would be many, many questions.

As Arthur reached the final page of his file, reading every detail over and over, he stood and returned the folder to Merlin without a word. Merlin looked up at him, expectant, hopeful. Turning on his heel, Arthur strode out of the office and left the lab, leaving Merlin sitting at his desk, falling to pieces.

 

~O~

 

It took four days of Gwaine’s constant mother-hen routine to keep Merlin afloat. Arthur had walked out of his office and that was that. He was gone.

Freya had returned from her walk to find him sitting at his desk with tears rolling down his face. Merlin felt absolutely barren of emotion, a shell of a human. She’d called Gwaine to come and get him, and he explained that Arthur had turned out to be Merlin’s Alpha. Freya told him to keep him home for the rest of the week, and Gwaine made sure he ate and bathed while he continued to feel nothing.

Merlin was wrapped in his plush heat blanket, fresh out of a bath, and Gwaine was curled up behind him in his bed watching movies on his tablet when it happened: Merlin’s mobile chimed with an incoming text with Arthur’s ringtone.

He went instantly rigid under Gwaine’s arm, tension radiating out of him. “Don’t,” he whispered as Gwaine rolled to reach for it. “I don’t want to see.”

Gwaine paused mid-roll, arm poised in a reach toward the bedside table. “You want me to just delete it?”

Merlin sniffed and rubbed his hands over his face. He rolled onto his back next to Gwaine and stared at the ceiling. Gwaine turned back to him, resting his hand on Merlin’s bicep. “Legs, if you want to read it in private, I’ll go. If you don’t want to read it at all, I’ll delete it.”

The phone chimed its reminder that a new text was unseen. Merlin closed his eyes. “Read it to me.”

Arthur: Hello, My name is Arthur Bloody Pendragon. I’m the King of England, an Alpha, and a massive prat on a good day, or so I’ve been told by a very official sciencey scientist man – whom I respect and admire, incidentally, and I’d be delighted, Dr Emrys, if you would do me the honour of going on a date with me. You see, I’ve much to apologise for, and I find these things generally go over more effectively in person, and even more so with food and drink. Dancing is, of course, optional.

Gwaine laughed as he read it and was pleased to see Merlin’s grim pout turn into a fond smile. Merlin rolled and grabbed the phone out of Gwaine’s hand.

Merlin: It was “massive and insufferable prat”, Dollophead.

Gwaine giggled at Merlin. “You’re a real brat, Merls. You two are perfectly matched.” He rolled to get off the bed and leave him to his conversation, turning before he reached the door. “If he hurts you in any way, Merlin, I’ll kill him.”

“I know,” he dimpled.

“Good,” he nodded. “Just wanted to be clear,” he said, leaving Merlin to his mobile.

Arthur: Dollophead? I thought I was a “gorgeous piece of shit”?

Merlin: That, too.

A: Merlin?

M: Yes, Arthur?

A: Will you answer my question, please?

M: I’m sorry, I didn’t see a question.

A: Would you do me the honour of being my date for an evening?

M: A proper date?

A: I’ll pick you up, come in to meet that thing you refer to as Gwaine, and let him quiz me about my intentions with his Merlin and everything.

M: If you bring me flowers, it’s off.

A: No, wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve heard you’re not a girl.

M: (: Nope. Definitely no vagina over here.

A: Jesus, Merlin, we’re not in your office now! No need to be so graphic.

M: VaginaVaginaVaginaVaginaVagina!!

A: Or childish, you idiot.

M: Okay, it’s a date.

M: BUT!!

M: You do have to come in and meet Gwaine properly, so he can size you up, and you two can circle one another like territorial beasts for my benefit. Sniff each other’s backsides and all that.

A: Consider it done. Tonight?

M: Impatient.

A: Don’t tell my sciencey scientist friend this, and I’d never admit it, but I miss you.

M: Alright. Give me two hours to wash my hair and do my make-up.

A: Text me your address Fool and I’ll see you then.

Two hours later, Gwaine opened the door to their flat as Arthur knocked. “Princess,” he smirked.

“Gwaine,” he bit out as he pushed past him into the flat. Merlin sat on the back of the sofa, long legs crossed at the ankles, and watched with extreme amusement.

With a toss of his hair and a click of his tongue, Gwaine unabashedly looked Arthur up and down, appraising him. “Not bad, Pendragon. You’ll do.”

Arthur snorted slightly. “Oh, I’ve got your seal of approval then, have I? I’m good enough for your precious baby?”

Before Merlin could squawk his offense, Gwaine leaned into Arthur’s chest with his index finger. “That precious baby is the greatest scientific mind of our generation, mate, the sexiest fucker I know, and one hell of a best friend. Good enough, Princess, has yet to be determined. But the second I see that man hurt will be your last.”

Merlin bit back his smile and enjoyed the view as the pair of men circled one another, like he’d joked, quite literally sizing one another up and staring one another down. It was terrifyingly sexy.

“Okay, enough butt sniffing,” he called out, striding between them. “Let’s go Arthur. I believe you promised me food, drink, optional dancing, and non-optional apologies.” He grabbed Arthur by the hand and dragged him away from Gwaine. “Don’t wait up, Mum!” he called out from the hallway. As they stepped out onto the pavement he laughed. “That was bloody amazing. Thank you.”

Settling behind the wheel of his car, Arthur turned to glance at Merlin who was busy lowering his window so he could breathe in such close proximity. “He’s really important to you, isn’t he?”

“He’s...” Merlin paused, somewhat stunned by the question, looking for an appropriate answer. “He’s the most important person I have in my life, Arthur, next to my mum. He’s”—he struggled with how much to say—“almost everything.” He blew out his breath and held it, waiting for Arthur’s response.

He turned over the engine and pulled out onto the road before he acknowledged what Merlin had said. “He’s your ‘one Beta male.’” Merlin noticed that it wasn’t a question.

“Does that upset you? You can take me home, if you want. It’s okay.”

“Are you in love with him?” He kept his eyes locked on the road, but Merlin saw the tension held in his jaw.

“Not sure I ever really was. He was in love with me, and I love him, but they’re not the same, are they? We tried. We failed. He’s Beta. I can’t be who he needs, and he can’t be who I need. It hurt us both for a long time, and I didn’t think our friendship – our relationship,” he corrected, “would survive. But he’s my strength, Arthur. He’s kept me alive and whole for years. I don’t get jealous of his one-night stands anymore. And I think he stopped wishing they were me years ago.” He rubbed his hands down the length of his thighs and gripped his knees. “You can let me out up here, and I’ll walk back. It’s alright.”

“Our date isn’t over, Merlin. There are still things I need to say, to apologise for. Things I want you to hear.”

“Okay,” he whispered and turned to stare out of the window, no longer feeling like this was a good idea.

They drove the rest of the way to the restaurant in near silence, awkward and heavy, punctuated with fleeting glances at one another. Merlin frowned at the empty carpark and dimmed lighting inside. “Arthur, I think it’s closed.”

He opened his door and got out. “It is.”

Merlin followed him out of the car, but didn’t shut his door. “Then what are we doing here?” he asked hesitantly.

Arthur simply breezed past him and pulled open the front door to the building and waited for him. “I own it. I closed it. It’s just us tonight. You coming?”

Merlin closed the car door and swallowed, once again reminded that this man was a mega rich prat.

He followed Arthur inside and was greeted by a tall, thin, blond man. “Arthur, Merlin, welcome.”

“Thank you, Tristan. The terrace is set for us? We will dine outdoors tonight, thank you. Merlin needs the air.” He turned his bright blue gaze back to Merlin who stared openly at him. _What the actual fuck?_ Merlin realised he must have been making a face because Arthur’s smug smile nearly blinded him.

“Of course, this way.” He led them away from the entrance through the empty dining room. “The menu is as requested, though Maurice was less than thrilled with it, I’m afraid.”

Arthur laughed. “Of course he was. It doesn’t matter. It’s important to me.”

“Of course, sir.” Tristan bent his head slightly.

Once they were seated and alone, Merlin let out the breath he’d been holding. “Holy shit, Pendragon.” Arthur laughed and poured the bottle of wine that had been waiting for them on their table.

“Indeed. It’s nice to be the King of England, now and then.”

The terrace was illuminated with tiny white fairy lights, hidden among the boughs of the trees surrounding it. The other tables had been removed and they sat at the centre, overlooking the city lights.

_This is a fucking fairy tale. And I’m the fucking princess._

Merlin sipped his wine and waited for Arthur to speak. He’d said there were things he wanted Merlin to hear, so he listened. “I wasn’t going to call you,” he began, and Merlin’s appetite dissolved.

“You didn’t. You texted,” he reminded him bitterly.

“Right. Well I wasn’t even going to do that. I was angry, Merlin. I felt humiliated, betrayed, lied to.” Merlin had the decency to look ashamed. “I don’t think you need a scarlet letter, or anything, you don’t need to be branded for the world to see you as you are, but”—he sipped his wine—“I think that when I pursued you, wanted you, kissed you, Merlin, you should have said something more than ‘I’m straight.’” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsure how to respond, when Arthur continued, “Because you’re not straight.” He raised his hand as Merlin opened his mouth to protest. “And you’re not gay, or even bisexual. You’re Omega.”

“Yes, but that —”

“No buts, Merlin. You’re only sexually attracted to Alphas. You might have romantic feelings for Freya and Gwaine, or anyone else you’ve dated in the past. But it stops there, yes?” Merlin nodded, chewing his lips. “So you’ve lied to yourself, too, and so I can’t hold that against you.”

A young, dark-haired man arrived with two plates of food they hadn’t ordered. Merlin was surprised to see his favourite dish, grilled duck and figs with wild mushroom risotto, placed before him. He thanked the man quietly and looked at Arthur with raised brows.

“Thank you, Sam. That will be all for now,” Arthur politely dismissed the server. “I hope you like it.” He smiled at Merlin.

“Did Mith tell you about this?” he asked, bewildered.

“No.” Arthur blushed slightly. “It was Gwaine.”

Merlin’s eyes nearly fell out of his face and rolled across the table. “Now who is keeping secrets?”

Arthur finished chewing his mouthful of food before answering. “I wasn’t going to call you, Merlin. I was angry. Until Gwaine showed up at my office, furious.”

“Oh god.”

“Indeed. Mithian was terrified when she saw him, said she’d never seen him have any actual emotions other than lust before.” He chuckled. “I’m a confident man, Merlin. I don’t get backed into a corner, and I don’t back down when confronted. But, that man loves you with a ferocity I’ve never experienced.”

“So he told you I was at home, a snivelling mess, and you felt sorry for me, is that it?” Merlin wiped his mouth on his napkin and made to stand, ready to be done with this evening.

“No! No, Merlin,” he sighed. “I didn’t know you were a mess. He never said.” He looked up at Merlin, hovering above his chair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” He sat back down, waiting to hear what Gwaine had said. Arthur let out a shaky breath, Merlin’s only indication so far that Arthur was uncomfortable.

“Gwaine stormed into my office and berated me for not seeing you for you, for only wanting one thing. He stood there and passionately talked about everything he loves about you and told me how much of an idiot I was for not wanting more of you. He broke down in tears after a while and told me that you deserved a better Alpha than me.” Merlin’s eyes shimmered and a lump rose in his throat. “It broke my heart because he was right. I asked him what he would do if he were me.” He waved his hand around, encompassing the terrace and view and meal. “Here we are. I want to try to be the man that Gwaine says you deserve.”

“For Gwaine?”

“For you. And for me.”

He reached across the table, asking for Merlin’s hand. When he gave it, he gave it a squeeze and continued, “There’s something about you, Merlin. I didn’t understand my feelings before, the attraction to you, but this makes sense. Yes, you’re bloody gorgeous, but there was more. At Freya’s wedding, that kiss, that moment with you, I...” He rubbed his free hand through his hair. “I’ve never felt anything like that before. Your skin feels different. Your voice feels different. I know now that’s because you’re an Omega, biologically designed to make me feel like this. I recognise now that the feelings evoked by meeting your mother were similar. My instincts are driven by you, for you. I don’t want to let that go for the sake of my pride.”

“Where do we go from here?”

“I forgive you for hiding. I think that I know why you did it, and if I’m right, I understand. Do you forgive my anger, my tantrum?”

“I wouldn’t have come out with you tonight if I hadn’t already.”

Arthur smiled warmly and raised his glass to clink it gently with Merlin’s.

“No more secrets.”

“None.”

“I have questions.”

“I knew that you would.”

“And you’ll tell me?”

“When I’m ready, yes.”

“Can we start now?”

“What would you like to know?” When Arthur blushed slightly and hesitated, Merlin supplied for him, “You want to know about the physical intimacy thing, yes?”

Arthur swallowed and struggled to maintain eye contact with him. “Not if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t,” he answered. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Can we talk about the panic attack you had at my house?”

Merlin scowled, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Can we talk about regular date things while we eat? What was it like growing up in a mansion with staff?”

Arthur leaned back in his chair, having cleared most of his plate already, and took his glass of wine with him. “Well, I had no idea that other households didn’t have staff, so it was all fairly normal to me. When Morgana came to live with us after her mother passed away, when she and I found out we were siblings, she’s the one who made it all seem so weird to have staff. She’d gone on and on about how spoiled I was, having nannies and a cook. I yelled at her that she’d had a mother to love her, and all I had was people our father paid to care for me. We both cried then and decided that both of our lives were horribly unfair.”

Merlin’s face had melted into one of soft empathy at the mention of Arthur in tears. “How old were you?” he whispered.

“I was ten and Morgs was nearly twelve. God.” He smiled inwardly, remembering. “She was a massive pain in the ass then. It’s no wonder she’s such a harpy now.”

“Best friends, then, are you?” he smirked.

“Morgana is the most terrifying person I’ve ever met. She’s brilliant and fierce. She has such a capacity for love, and the few lucky enough to feel it are often overwhelmed by its depths – but she will go to war single-handed and win every time for something she believes in or loves, no matter who or what stands in her way.”

“Sounds a bit like my mum.” Merlin laughed. Arthur chuckled at him.

“She’s engaged to my best mate from uni, Leon. We met on the football team and just instantly clicked. We lived together after the first year, and Morgs just wormed her way into his heart. Poor guy never saw her coming. I can’t wait for her to get her claws into you, actually.”

“Pull out my guts and see what I’m made of, will she?” He laughed and Arthur joined in, pouring them each another glass of wine. With his cup cradled to his chest, Merlin also leaned back in his chair casually. “I was a competitive swimmer,” he dimpled. “Footie never really made sense to me, but god do I love to swim.”

“Speedos and shaved legs?” Arthur waggled his brows at him.

“Oh yes. I was good too, until—” He broke there, a cloud settling over his features. “Well, I got kicked off the team once I couldn’t commit to the training schedule and missed two meets. And that was that.” Arthur stayed silent, looking at him openly – not pressing for more, but willing to hear it. “Life as an Omega.” He shrugged.

Leaning forward in his seat slightly, Arthur placed his glass on the table, keeping his eyes fixed on Merlin’s. “Tell me about that?”

“Why ‘life as an Omega’ meant I couldn’t commit to my team, you mean?” Arthur nodded. Merlin took a deep cleansing breath and let his head drop back a little. The lights in the trees made him feel like he was floating in space, and he realized he was feeling the effects of Arthur’s scent despite eating outdoors.

“I hit puberty, Arthur. I went into heat. Until my doctors figured out a hormone therapy protocol, I was hospitalised for several days every time. I missed huge chunks of a year of schooling, almost two really, and I worked like a dog to make up the marks over summer school. Once my heat was controlled, I couldn’t go back to swimming because...” He broke off, unsure of how much to say.

“My heart wasn’t in it anymore, and my body, well, speedos were no longer appropriate.” He focused his gaze on Arthur’s face trying to read him. “I threw myself into science, needing answers, wanting to know why. I focussed so hard on trying to figure out the biology of it all that before I knew it, I was working on my Ph.D., and swimming was a distant memory.”

He started to laugh quietly. “You know, when I was an angry teenager, I remember shouting at my mum that I wasn’t going to let being an Omega define me. But look at me. It’s driven my career, controlled my social life and ruined my chances for a love life. Being an Omega is all I bloody am.”

“Dance with me.” Merlin nearly shook his head, confused. He watched as Arthur stood and held out his hand. “Merlin, I’d love it if you’d dance with me.”

“Arthur, there isn’t any music.”

“There will be,” he crooned as he pulled Merlin to his feet.

He let Arthur lead him away from the table, smiling skeptically at him like he was daft, waiting for music to magically begin. Still holding his hand, Arthur wrapped his free arm around Merlin’s waist and pulled their bodies snugly together. The sudden proximity of Arthur’s face to his own, the huge blue eyes watching him and that wide full mouth just smiling inches from his, made Merlin’s head spin and his breath catch in his throat.

“I’d like to remedy your chances for a love life, if you’ll let me.”

Within seconds Merlin heard the opening notes to his favourite song and pulled back to stare unbelievingly at Arthur.

“Please tell me there are speakers hidden somewhere and that this is a CD or something, because if The Cure is actually here, and you fucking own Robert Smith I’m going to die.”

Arthur chuckled quietly and pulled Merlin back in. “It’s a CD, idiot.” He started to sway his hips lightly as “Halo” played on. “Though”—he grinned his best Cheshire cat grin—“I don’t own Robert, but he’s an old friend of my uncle’s. He’s a lovely chap. I think you’d like him.”

“Fuck off,” he muttered and let his forehead fall to Arthur’s shoulder, guarding his breathing as he did. “You did not just call Robert Smith ‘lovely.’”

After a while of silently dancing, holding one another, Arthur turned his face slightly towards Merlin’s. “Why can’t I smell you?” he whispered. “Like how you smell me, or even how I smelled your mum?”

“It’s the hormone therapy I’m on to stop my heat from happening. It essentially blocks my body from producing the hormones that make the pheromones of an Omega. I am, for all intents and purposes, disguising my body as a Beta.”

“But it doesn’t affect how I hear your voice,” he mused, and tightened his grip on Merlin’s fingers, “or how you feel to me.”

“What’s that like for you?” he whispered into the narrow space between them.

For a while Arthur didn’t speak, just swayed to the music as it transitioned from “Halo” to “Pictures Of You”, letting his hand open and close over Merlin’s, letting his fingertips trail over his palm and over the lengths of his fingers.

“Your skin...” He smiled softly. “It’s got that comforting heat to it, like a hot water bottle on a cold night, or how sitting too close to a fire makes your skin burn, but you don’t want to move away from it, you know?”

Merlin nodded. “Like wrapping your hands around a hot cup of tea.”

“Exactly like that,” he said as he closed his fingers around Merlin’s wrist. “But,” he growled, suddenly serious, “your voice, on the other hand...” Merlin looked up at him and swallowed back the whimper threatening to escape. “Your voice is a dark and sultry thing. God, when you got up to speak at Freya’s wedding, I nearly snapped my champagne flute. Your voice curled up in my chest and filled me with this feeling like I was being stalked by a black panther. It’s why I followed you outside with that beer. I’d hoped for your number. I never expected this.” He traced his thumb over Merlin’s cheekbone and down his jaw, ending with a soft caress over his bottom lip.

“Monsieur Pendragon?” Arthur let out a sigh, not breaking his gaze from Merlin’s eyes, darkened with lust. “ _Excusez_ _moi_ , monsieur. But your _dessert_ is ready. Bon appetit.” The man audibly sneered the word dessert.

“Merci beaucoup, Maurice. Je veillerai à ce que vous êtes récompensé pour vos soucis ce soir.”

 _Holy fucking shit._ Merlin’s legs wobbled. _Fucking FRENCH._

The man nodded sourly at Arthur and left. “Gwaine had better not have been taking the piss on this one, Merlin. I have had to bribe my best chef to even allow this in his kitchen,” he said as he strode over to the trolley and uncovered the platter of convenience store chocolate popsicles. Merlin happily marched over and tore open the paper wrapper on one and snapped the popsicle in half, holding it towards Arthur by the stick.

“This has been my most favourite date ever, Monsieur Pendragon.” He tapped the end of his half to Arthur’s once he’d taken it. “Cheers.”

They had gathered the platter of frozen treats and taken a short walk to the edge of the terrace garden. They sat in the dark peace of night, enjoying the dessert, Robert Smith singing quietly in the background, and chatted comfortably about other various first date topics.

As their laughter died down following Arthur sharing stories of the pranks he and Leon used to play on the rest of the footie team, Merlin leaned back against the low brick wall surrounding the terrace and watched Arthur as he stared out over the city. The stark outline of his profile against the city lights was breathtaking. He could see the glimmer of his eyes, the strong sharp cut of his noble nose and the gentle bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

“When I’m touched,” he began, voice confident, “casually by a Beta, it feels numb. It’s like being touched over layers of clothing: I feel the pressure, the weight of it, but nothing more. Being touched intimately by a Beta feels like slapping a sunburn. It hurts and is uncomfortable and I just want it to stop. It’s impossible to become aroused when you either can’t feel it, or it hurts. And so being intimate with others is something I don’t do anymore.”

Arthur had turned to look at him while he spoke, and Merlin raised his eyes to meet Arthur’s. “Because I had undiagnosed depression and anxiety as a teenager, I turned to self-harm to deal with my emotional crashes, which usually happened following an attempt to be close to someone. I have scars, Arthur. A lot of them. I didn’t return to swimming because I no longer bare my skin to the world. My body and I have a very rocky history, but it’s history. We fought a war together, and the wounds have healed, but the landscape has been forever altered.”

Arthur turned his eyes back to the city lights, chewing on his lips as he took in the information.

“Arthur, I’m telling you this because I want to have a physical relationship with you.” He scooted closer, taking his hand in his. “I don’t want the scars to surprise or upset you when you see them.”

“Where are they?” he croaked out, sounding emotional.

“I started on my hips, knowing my swim trunks would hide them. When I got cut from the team, I let the cuts roam over my thighs, and a few come up to my waist. I can show you those, if you wanted to see them.”

Arthur gave a small lopsided smile. “Seems more like second date stuff.”

“Fair enough. Do you want to know anything else about it?”

“You’re okay now?”

Merlin took a deep breath and regretted it instantly as Arthur’s scent filled his head. He shook it violently to clear it and moved back to where he’d been sitting before, stretching his long legs out between them. “Arthur, do you know anyone with depression?”

“Not anyone that’s ever talked about it before, no.”

He sighed and leaned back on his hands and stared up at the stars. “Depression isn’t like a cold or food poisoning. It’s not something you come down with and it passes with time or meds. Antidepressants and antibiotics could not be more different. It’s not like a broken bone that eventually heals. It’s a disease, Arthur, similar in a way to diabetes and anxiety is a bit like asthma. I will always need medication to deal with both of them, for the rest of my life. Untreated, they both can be fatal. So yes, I’m currently medicated so my symptoms are managed effectively and flare ups are less frequent than before I was medicated.”

“I guess I was asking if you don’t cut yourself anymore, then.”

“No. Not in five years. That’s when I ended up at the psych hospital and it all came out about the cutting. I spent almost three months there, being evaluated, treated and observed – by the shrinks there, and by Caroline Nimueh who has always managed my hormone treatment.”

“Why were you hospitalized?”

Merlin hesitated knowing telling the story is personally upsetting.

“More second date stuff, I think, Arthur. Mithian knows if you’re impatient enough to dig into my past, but I’d prefer it if you heard it from me.” He smiled warmly as Arthur chuckled to himself.

“Yeah, I guess you’d better go out with me again. Come on.” He stood up and brushed at the seat of his pants where he’d been sitting on the ground, and reached out to help Merlin to his feet. “I’d better get you home to Gwaine before he skins me alive for having you out too late and he never lets you out again.”

The drive home was quiet, Arthur having put the CD from the restaurant into the stereo and Merlin humming along contentedly. As he pulled up to the front of Merlin’s flat, he said, “Tell me, Merlin, do you kiss on the first date, or only at random wedding encounters?”

He dimpled adorably and said, “Only if I’ve also happened to have kissed my date in their study following a panic attack, so I think you might be in luck.”

Arthur walked him to the door of the building, but didn’t shut off the engine, letting Merlin know he didn’t intend to come in. “Then I guess the only question I have left for tonight is this; what kind of kiss would you like, Doctor Emrys? Stairwell snog or study snog?”

He placed a finger to his lips, pretending to give the issue serious thought, making Arthur grin at him. “I think, Oh Princely Prat, I should like very much to know what else you’ve got.”

Arthur crowded into his space, curling his fingers around his biceps to pull him gently closer. The light from the lobby of his building through the window cast Arthur’s face half in a yellow glow, accentuating his golden aura, while the dark night cast the other half in shadow, almost blue in the ambient light. He nudged against Merlin’s nose with his own, revelling in the shudder of Merlin’s breath against his lips. He trailed his hands down the length of Merlin’s arms and grasped him by the hips firmly, causing Merlin to nearly squeak with surprise.

As their lips finally touched, soft and warm, Merlin could feel himself melting forward, sighing into it. His hands rested gently on Arthur’s chest, and as the kiss deepened, he scrunched his shirt up in his fists. Arthur sucked gently on Merlin’s bottom lip before letting him go, leaving Merlin feeling dizzy and disoriented. He tucked his lips between his teeth, pressing them together to hold on to the feeling of being kissed a little longer.

“Goodnight, Merlin.”

“Goodnight, Arthur.”

He called for the lift, floating in a dream, and smiled as he heard Arthur’s car speed away.

_Well, fuck. I’m fucking fucked._

 


	5. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers! Just a quick note to let you all know - this story *is* complete - but I will be on vacation off and on for the next 6 weeks, and will post a chapter at a time when I have access to the internet. So please do not fret if it feels like forever between chapters. They're coming. I promise <3

**July 2011**

 

Arthur: Might have something interesting for you.

Merlin: If you send me a dick pic, I’ll kill you.

A: I hadn’t planned to, but now that you mention it…

M: I know how to make your death look like an accident, Arthur.

A: But it’s so pretty. Just one?

M: Can’t sext with you now, perv. Clients coming in for consult and possibly testing in 5 min.

A: I love your one track mind, Merlin. Filthiest virgin I know.

M: What do you have, Prat?

A: Might have found the hippie woman who helped my folks.

M: !?! I’ll call you as soon as I can.

Merlin tried his best to focus on the fertility profile of the couple he was about to meet, reading over their test results and failed attempts using conventional fertility treatments. He just needed to test the blood of the wife for Omega genes, but would test the husband as well to bulk up his case study numbers.

A small detail that had come up in his interview with the patients — Mrs. Michaels had a history of Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder — triggered something in his memory, and Merlin itched to make a number of phone calls. He managed to maintain his cheerful disposition as he collected samples from the couple and assured them that he would find a way to help them.

The moment they were gone, he called Caroline Nimueh. “Tell me everything you know about PMDD.”

“Hello, Merlin,” she greeted him fondly, smiling into the phone. “And how are you this afternoon?”

He snorted in frustration. “Potentially onto a major discovery, Caroline. Spill.”

She sighed into the phone. “You _do_ know how to Google, yes?”

Merlin stared balefully at the multiple search windows open in his browser. “Have you ever Googled illnesses? The internet is a wasteland. Spill.”

“Alright, off the top of my head, it’s like PMS on steroids. Women feel monstrously agitated, exhausted, heightened sensory sensitivity, depressive feelings, and bloat related weight gain.”

“Every month?”

“No, PMDD typically skips a month or two.”

“And you can treat it with hormones and SSRIs?”

“When it’s severe, yes.”

“How common is it, truly?”

“Rare, Merlin. Fewer than 10% of menstruating women are diagnosed, even fewer require drastic hormone therapy. Why?”

“Caroline?” Merlin could hear her distractedly typing at her computer.

“Hmm?”

“Do you not see it?” His voice sounded shrill, and he winced at himself. _Breathe, dipshit._

“What, Merlin?”

“The symptoms, the frequency, the treatment?” He was all but tearing his hair out.

“What about them?”

He stood abruptly from his desk and stomped like a petulant child. “DO YOU POSSIBLY HAVE A MALE PATIENT WITH THE EXACT SAME FUCKING ISSUES WHO HAPPENS TO BE SHOUTING AT YOU AT THE MOMENT??”

“Are you saying you think you have PMDD, Merlin?” She all but giggled in his ear. “I’ve watched you go through heat, kid. It’s not at all the same.”

He steadied his breathing, pinching the bridge of his nose, and calmed himself before answering. “And my mother swears up and down that her heats were never as severe as mine, yes? Because she’s a woman, and for some sick reason I’m the only fucking male Omega in the universe and maybe that’s why my heats are so much more insane. Mum never had issues with sensory stimulus, Caroline. Just me. What if other Omega women are able to have healthy sexual relationships with Beta men and women because it doesn’t hurt them the way it hurts me, because I’m the only lucky bastard born the way I am?” He took a deep breath and sat back down.

Steadying his breath, he continued, “I’m saying I think that PMDD isn’t PMDD – or maybe not all cases. Maybe just the severe cases, you know? What if these women are actually Omega? Or some of them? What if Omega women are being misdiagnosed with PMDD because the symptoms match and treatments seem to have the same effect? Caroline, how many women with PMDD struggle with infertility?”

There was nothing but silence on the other end of the phone for a moment and Merlin wondered briefly if they’d been cut off. Just as he was about to ask if she was still there, Caroline let out her breath. “Merlin, I’ll have to call you back with figures.”

She’d hung up after that. Not wanting to waste time waiting for her call, Merlin rang up the lab at Assisted Reproduction. “Hi Mike, it’s Merlin Emrys. Listen, I’ve got some questions about the IVF attempts of a specific couple who have been released to my study from your clinic.”

“Doctor E. I am at your service. Hit me with it.” Merlin heard the whoosh of his desk chair wheels and he could picture Mike zooming from one side of his work space to the other. He asked questions, listened intently to the answers, and jotted frantic notes on his notepad.

“Thanks, mate.”

“Anytime.”

Merlin paced about his office, restless. His mind raced frantically; the wheel was spinning out of control, hamsters were flying everywhere. He decided to call Arthur back.

“Hello, my super-hot sciencey boyfriend.”

“Hey, I need a sperm sample.”

“Uh...” Arthur hesitated. “I thought you weren’t ready for that yet?”

“What? Oh! Jesus, Arthur.” Merlin realised he sounded fairly breathless from his pacing and sat. “I mean, you prat, that I have only two Alphas in my study. It has occurred to me that there’s a possibility that your sperm is actually very different from Beta sperm. I need to compare them, and the alternative is to ask your dad, so... Please?”

“Only if you don’t compare it with Gwaine’s.” He could hear Arthur’s pout.

“God, you’re a jealous tart, aren’t you? I was going to ask for a sample from the couple who were just here. I promise I won’t use Gwaine’s sperm. Please?”

“I’ll do anything in the name of science, for you.”

“Good. Thank you. Now. Tell me about the hippie woman.”

“Right! So, I went to visit my uncle in prison—” Merlin choked, cutting him off.

“Oh god, why?”

“To get the answers my father refuses to give, Merlin.” He could hear Arthur’s eyes rolling through the phone. “He told me that the woman’s name is Finna and that she practised holistic medicine at the time in Somerset.”

“Hardly enough to go on.”

“Shut up. I’ve done quite a bit of phone tag and digging, and I think I’ve found her. She’s in a retirement community near Bristol now. Fancy a weekend away with me? We can track her down and find out what she knows.”

“Arthur, I’m dying to know what she knows, but a weekend away? I know I’m not ready for that yet.”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour, my sweet Omega. I’ll arrange separate hotel rooms and everything.”

Merlin fidgeted uncomfortably with the tracker wheel on his mouse. “We haven’t really figured out what we’re doing yet, Arthur. We haven’t talked about expectations or boundaries or anything.”

Arthur sighed. “I can go alone, but I know you’ll have questions I’ll never think to ask. Look, are you free for dinner tonight? We can order a pizza, even share with Gwaine if he’s home, and sit down together and figure some stuff out like the adults we pretend to be, okay?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“The pizza or the trip?”

“Oh, I’m sold on pizza. I mean the trip. Let’s sit down tonight and pretend we’re grown-ups, like you said, and talk this through. Would you be mad if Gwaine had input, because I think having a Beta mediator might be needed, especially one who knows me better than I know myself most of the time. But I’m not guaranteeing the trip just yet. I still need to think about that.”

“Understood. I’ll bring pizza and beer tonight. So, when and where do you want my sperm?”

“Now and under my microscope, please.”

 

~O~

 

It turned out that having Gwaine present was more helpful than either of them had anticipated. His glorious lack of inhibition let him lead the conversation bluntly, without mincing words or giving a rat’s arse about how deeply Merlin blushed through the ordeal.

“Right, so,” he muttered around a mouthful of molten cheese, “first things first, you both get screened for STIs.”

Arthur’s face scrunched indignantly at the implication. “I’ll have you know that we’re not all shameless slags like you, Gwaine, and that safe sex is top priority for the rest of the world.”

Merlin held up a hand to ease him. “It’s because we can’t use condoms, Arthur. There can’t be any barrier between our skin in order for me to feel anything. Remember I said that I can’t feel it, like being touched over layers of clothing? It’d feel numb to me. The only safe sex we can have is to be tested and trusting of one another.”

“Exactly, you giant prat,” Gwaine continued. “So even though Merlin is technically a virgin, you should both be tested to rule out anything and everything that could interfere with your health.”

“Alright, consider it done,” Arthur agreed. “When you say ‘technically a virgin’, I get a clear picture of what you haven’t done, Merlin, but you were in a relationship for months with Freya, yes? And you two...”—he waved a hand vaguely between them—“you know. So, what’s uncharted territory and what’s not?”

Merlin’s blush was deepening, but he resolved to be as upfront and honest as he could. “Well, anything I have done either wasn’t felt at all, like kissing, or was painful, like...” he trailed off, looking helpless.

“It’s impossible to get Merlin hard, no matter what you try, hands, tongue, or toys.”

“Jesus, Gwaine.” He buried his face in his hands and took a few deep breaths. “Okay, I have brought my partners to orgasm using my hands and mouth, but have never had the favour returned because of the pain involved.”

“Oi, don’t say ‘partners’ like that includes me!” Gwaine turned his hazel eyes to meet Arthur’s square on. “I never let him try, even though he said he wanted to. I wouldn’t let him be that selfless, because of what it did to him with Frey. If I couldn’t get him off, he wasn’t allowed to get me off, full stop.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and dropped his pizza slice on the plate. “It doesn’t matter what I have and haven’t done because none of it felt good before. No matter what we decide to do, Arthur, it will be the first time I’ve ever actually experienced it. Anything and everything.”

Arthur pushed his chair back slightly, putting a bit of distance between himself and Merlin. Merlin chewed his lips nervously waiting for whatever it was that was causing Arthur’s brow to wrinkle and his jaw to flex with tension. He could feel Arthur’s leg bouncing nervously under the table, could see the slight wiggling of his torso, as he ruminated.

Finally, Arthur leaned his elbows on the table again and laid his hand over Merlin’s, but he addressed Gwaine. “In my personal experience, anything you do for the first time is intense and overwhelming. For my share of personal firsts, I’ve also given a few firsts to others, and I’m going to assume the same goes for you, yes?” Gwaine nodded and took a swig of his beer. “So you will understand my hesitation here.” He turned his eyes to Merlin. “The fact that everything we do together, Merlin, will be your first, is incredibly daunting. Overwhelming someone you care about isn’t a pleasant feeling.” He gave his hand a light squeeze. “And I care about you. I’m worried about your anxiety, and I’m worried that you might hurt yourself if you get too low with the adrenaline crash. I’m worried that you’ll get drunk on my pheromones and allow yourself to do more than your brain and body can handle.”

Merlin’s stomach sank, and he dropped his gaze to where Arthur’s hand laid over his. Gwaine put his bottle down on the table gently and looked at Arthur with respect and awe. “Good man, Pendragon,” he whispered.

They both looked to Merlin for a response. He chewed his lips uncertainly. “I—” He swallowed hard, shoving his fear down so his voice wouldn’t tremble. “I can’t promise anything, Arthur. I don’t know how I will feel or how I will react. You’re right to worry, I think, though. An adrenaline crash sounds exactly like what would trigger a major attack – but we could be prepared for it, right?”

Arthur held his gaze, searching, but not speaking. After a while he whispered, “How major?”

Merlin let out the breath he’d been holding, but before he could answer, Gwaine stepped in on his behalf.

“It depends, really, Arthur. On a lot of factors. Because Merlin’s sexuality is a complete mystery, even to himself, there is literally no way to know how he’s going to be emotionally or psychologically affected. He might need to be pushed to dizzying heights, which could make the crash that much more severe. He might need very little to set him off, and he’d never go fully under mentally. I say, prepare for the absolute worst and hope you don’t need it.” He stood to collect the plates and grab fresh bottles of beer for them all, letting Merlin have a moment alone with Arthur. Merlin felt like he might be sick, his breath suddenly coming in short fast bursts.

“Hey,” Arthur whispered, and took him by the hand. “Hey, come on. Let’s get you to a window.” Merlin let himself be dragged across the living room. Arthur opened the large window to give him access to some fresh air. Closing his eyes and filling his lungs with London’s smog felt like breathing in the crisp mountain air of his childhood home back in Wales.

Arthur gave him space and simply waited.

Merlin felt like he was splitting open and pouring out. “It’s so much pressure,” he whispered. “It’s too big, all of this. I’m asking far too much of you, and I barely know you.” Arthur didn’t move, but Merlin could see him in his peripheral vision. He stood like a soldier at ease, back straight, feet slightly parted. He was broad and strong in all the ways Merlin would never be, could never be, confidence personified. Yet when Merlin glanced at his face, he was surprised by the hurt and uncertainty. He could see the muscles of his jaw working, his Adam’s apple bobbing slowly with a deep swallow.

Suddenly he came toward Merlin, determination set on his face, and Merlin met him halfway. Arthur grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him so they were chest to chest. He whispered, “Do I scare you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like that?”

“Sometimes.” Merlin’s cheeks burned with that revelation. Arthur’s grip tightened on him, weakening his knees.

“I’m strong, Merlin. I could take what I want from you, whenever I wanted to.”

“Yes.” He closed his eyes to hide his fear and other nameless emotions he couldn’t place.

“Does that scare you?”

“Yes.”

“Would you let me?”

“Yes,” he sobbed.

“Do you think I would?” Merlin’s eyes flew open at that.

“No.”

“Do you want me to?”

“No.” Arthur softly smiled at that.

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“Yes.” Merlin sighed, happy where this line of questioning was headed, finally.

“No.” Arthur’s eyes were warm, but his voice was cold.

“No?” Merlin’s brow wrinkled.

“You can’t kiss me.”

“Okay.” He swallowed, disappointed.

“Not for six weeks.”

“Why?”

“Can you do that?” he whispered, hopeful.

“What?”

“Wait six weeks.”

“I’d wait forever, Arthur.” Merlin had never felt surer of anything in his life as he did about that statement. His confidence showed.

Arthur nodded. “Good.”

He let Merlin go and turned to see Gwaine staring at them both, brows raised. Merlin’s cheeks were flushed, and he was slightly out of breath. He felt like Arthur had shoved him out on a raft in shark-infested waters, terrified but safe at the same time.

“What’s in six weeks, Princess?”

Arthur cleared his throat and accepted the cold beer in Gwaine’s outstretched hand. “That’s how long it takes for an STI screening result to come back. And that’s for how long I plan to get to know Merlin without touching him, and he can get to know me. So he can be sure this is something we both want.” And with that generous gesture, Merlin felt his feet land safely on the shore once again. He nearly sagged with relief and gratitude, unable to verbalize the thoughts screaming through his mind.

Once again, Gwaine stepped in to the rescue. Clapping a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, he clinked the mouth of his bottle against Arthur’s. “Cheers, mate. That means the world to him.”

 

~O~

 

Merlin had completely forgotten that Arthur was in the room with him, which is why he jumped a mile when he spoke.

“You’re brilliant, aren’t you?”

Clutching his chest in an attempt to still his heart, Merlin frowned in confusion. “What?”

“Gwaine wasn’t lying when he said you’re the greatest scientific mind of our generation. You’re actually completely brilliant.”

Merlin didn’t feel particularly brilliant at the moment, as his momentum had come to a jarring halt when Arthur spoke, leaving him feeling stunned and floundering.

“What? No, I’m just thinking.” He stared down at the pages and pages of notes he’d scribbled furiously and laid out on the foot of the bed and floor before him.

Arthur smiled and sprawled himself across the bed in the small hotel room, fanning his arms out wide. “You think like a brilliant person.”

Merlin huffed at him and yanked papers out from under his legs. “Do you mean like a barking mad person?”

Arthur closed his eyes and chuckled softly. “Yeah. You pace around and talk to yourself and answer your own questions, and I’ve just been sitting here waiting for you to actually shout 'Eureka!'” Merlin tossed a crumpled note at his face, which Arthur batted away easily before it hit its mark. “I knew you were smart, Science Boy, but watching you work is amazing. You’re brilliant.”

He sat abruptly in the desk chair and let his eyes fall over the scene before him. The floor was positively littered with crumpled notes of failure, flat sheets of promising ideas, his shoes, one sock, his tie, and several pens. The bed was littered with a giant bored Alpha, smirking at him like he was the daftest and most precious thing in the universe.

“Fuck you, Pendragon.”

“Where’s your other sock, Emrys?” Merlin scanned the floor quickly, not seeing it among the debris and frowned. “I’ll give you a clue, idiot. Take a deep breath.”

Merlin’s frown remained, but he inhaled gently. Realization hit him the moment he smelled it, and he yanked the sock from the breast pocket of his shirt, tossing it at Arthur who practically howled with laughter.

“That’s it. Get out. I’m thinking. Go to your own room and brood or something.”

“Hey, I’m funding your research, Merlin.” He laughed as Merlin physically shoved him out the door. With a pout he turned to face him. “I’ll be quiet, I promise. I just don’t want to think about what she said. I need the distraction.”

Merlin sighed. “But all I’m doing is thinking about what she said, Arthur.”

“I know. But you’re thinking about it scientifically, which is very sexy, by the way. And all I’ve got is raw emotion, and I don’t want to face that right now.”

“Okay, yeah.” Merlin caved. “Don’t speak unless spoken to. And don’t crumple my work with your fat bum,” he shouted as Arthur sat on the foot of the bed again, disregarding the pages of notes on it.

Offended, Arthur put his hand to his chest to protect his pride. “I am not fat, Merlin.”

“Yeah well, tell that to your full English breakfast and thick thighs, alright?”

With a look of mock hurt and wounded pride, Arthur sniffed, “My thighs aren’t thick.” Then with a smug grin, he said, “They’re juicy.” He waggled his brows for effect, and Merlin laughed at him.

“Alright, then. Get your juicy arse off my brilliant work.”

Their visit to see Finna had been incredibly overwhelming for them both. She had looked like the aging hippie that he had expected, scarf tied loosely around her greying hair, flowy clothing and sandals on her bare feet. The sight had made Merlin bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. But when she spoke, he and Arthur both had fallen silent and solemn as they took in what she’d had to say.

She knew Arthur the moment she laid eyes on him, stating that he favoured his mother’s looks. She knew why he was there and told him everything he’d wanted to know about his mother and her troubled pregnancy. Merlin felt like an intruder, like he shouldn’t have been there when Arthur heard such intimate details, but he was thankful that he was able to offer Arthur the support he had needed afterward.

When she had turned her steel grey eyes to Merlin, she frowned. “You”—she pointed—“are a mystery. Who are you, and why are you here?”

“My name is Merlin Emrys, ma’am. I’m a research student, studying human genetics and ferti…” He trailed off as her eyes grew round with awe.

“Emrys?” she whispered, reverent.

“Yes, that’s right. Are you okay?”

“You’re Balinor’s child.” Merlin took the name like a punch to the gut. He nodded dumbly, unsure of what to say. “Why do you hide yourself? What has happened to you?” She was suddenly angry and steering him away from Arthur. “What has happened, Emrys?”

“I don’t know. What’s wrong? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shook his head, confused and irritated at being manhandled.

“Your father is Balinor Emrys, and you don’t know what I’m talking about?” she snorted.

“My father died before I was born,” he offered as an excuse for his ignorance. “What is wrong?”

“How can you be Beta? Where is your sister? Who is your mother?” she asked warily, raising a single brow.

Merlin was stunned. “I don’t have a sister. My mother is Hunith Greene, an Omega.” He swallowed, hesitating, his blood ringing in his ears. “Like me.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly at him and tilted her head, scrutinizing his face closely. “Omega?”

“Yes.” He barely breathed the word, and she spun away from him, muttering. “I take medication,” he offered as explanation, “to seem like a Beta.”

Merlin shook himself out of the memory and back to the notes before him. _Focus on the science, man. Forget the rest._ He looked around hopelessly at the mess of his hotel room and at Arthur sitting patiently at the foot of the bed. Finna’s words had pierced him to the core, and Arthur’s interruption had dragged him out of his momentum. Focus was impossible.

“Alright,” he sighed. “I need to take a walk. Let’s go find somewhere with chocolate popsicles and forget today ever happened, okay?”

They walked in companionable silence through town toward a park. Arthur had found a place to buy Merlin’s popsicle. He watched in abject horror as he chewed his way through it and then mangled the wooden stick with his teeth.

“Do you always forget about things so aggressively?” he asked, nodding at the splintered stick being ground between Merlin’s molars.

“Ugh.” He spat out fragments and tossed the remainder of the stick into a bin nearby. “Sorry, yeah. I’ve devoured more ball point pens than I care to remember during exams.”

“Did she explain the issue with my folks to you?” Arthur stared into the distance, unsure if he wanted an answer or not. “Like, did she say anything about it to help you with the science part of things?”

Merlin looked at Arthur standing on the path before him, feeling lost and small and smiled. “Yeah, without getting into details about your parents’ sex life, which I’m sure you’ll appreciate, basically, your mom would hide herself away when she’d go into heat, fearing there was something wrong with her. So, despite trying for a baby, your parents technically never mated until Finna explained how it works to them.” Arthur scrunched his nose adorably and Merlin smiled. “I know, gross. Parents and sex. It’s almost enough to make me sick up my popsicle.”

Arthur shoved gently at his shoulder. “Do you understand how it all works, though? Like, the science part of it?”

“I think so, yeah. I mean, I’m taking the ramblings of an elderly woman I’ve just met at face value for the moment. I want and need to test and observe what I can in the lab, which is what all of that was back there.” He waved in the general direction of the hotel.

“Like with the sperm samples, right? You’re figuring out how to test it all?”

“Yeah. Some of it doesn’t make any sense, but that could be because she was only able to give us the lore aspect.” He sighed. “But as is true of any folklore of any people, there’s a scientific explanation for most of it.”

They continued walking toward a bench at the edge of a man-made pond and took a seat. The evening air was sweet and warm, and the pond was full of life – swans and ducks gorged themselves along the banks and in the weeds.

“How much of it do you believe?” Arthur’s tone was impassive, but Merlin knew he was desperate to understand it all as well.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out again, Merlin stooped to pick up a handful of gravel, idly tossing the stones gently into the pond one by one. “That there were whole tribes of people like us once? Living in family packs, like bloody wolves? I mean, it’s not outside the realm of possibility, I suppose, Arthur. But why is it so bloody secretive? Why hasn’t this been studied before?” He turned to face Arthur on the bench, dragging his knee up between them. “Surely I’d have found something in my ten years of searching for answers. Anthropologists had to have some inkling, don’t you think?”

“What about the Cynocephali?”

Merlin stared blankly at Arthur. “Pardon me?”

“You didn’t discover the Cynocephali in your searches?”

“I’m sorry, excuse me, but what the hell is that, and why is it a word you just happen to know off the top of your head?”

Arthur laughed and leaned in to Merlin’s space. “You’re not the only brilliant one around here, you know.”

“Shut up, Dollophead, and tell me about the Cynopotamus, or whatever.”

Arthur glowed from head to toe, pride oozing from his every pore. “Cynocephali, Merlin. Tribes of dog-people.” Merlin’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Ctesias wrote about them over two thousand years ago. But they show up in the works of Marco Polo and even Christopher Columbus.” Arthur got up to stretch before continuing, standing between Merlin and the setting sun so he wouldn’t have to squint at him. “They’re described as being hairy people with dog heads, but that’s easily garbage, because we’re gorgeous and Gwaine’s got more body hair than the two of us combined.”

Merlin joined him in his chuckling and added, “Plus, Gwaine actually has fleas in all that fur. He uses flea shampoo.”

“Right, so. Maybe there’s some truth to the reports of the Cynocephali, but also a lot of weird judgemental shit, too. But there are folks who believe that the Cyno are the origin of werewolf folklore, which, let’s face it, is what we’re dealing with here, yes?”

“And just how is it that you, a brilliant business man with a degree in economics, happen to know about these ancient tribes of dog-people?”

“Because,” he drawled, clapping his hands, “when I was a kid my dad had a huge book about...” he trailed off. “Oh god, Merlin. My dad has books about this somewhere in the house. I used to pore over the pictures in them as a kid.”

Merlin stood suddenly. “Do you think he knows and is keeping it from you intentionally?”

Arthur’s eyes darkened dangerously. “I intend to find out, the moment I get home.”

“Right. Let’s get back and grab dinner. We can be on the first train out of here in the morning.”

Merlin made Arthur tell him everything he could remember about the Cynocephali on the walk back to their hotel, and once again, his hamsters were sent running.

 

~O~

 

Freya poked her head into Merlin’s office. “You’re hiding in here.”

“I’m working,” he muttered, not lifting his eyes from his workspace.

She flopped down heavily in one of his seats and snatched a sheet of paper out from under his nose despite his squawk and flailing attempt to take it back. He stared at her with his jaw clenched, ready for battle as she scanned the information. Her eyebrows arched after a moment, and she leaned forward to take another sheet and read his notes.

“Merlin,” she breathed. “Is this—” she faltered. She looked up at him and tried again. “What is this?”

He swallowed thickly, holding on to his dignity by a thread. “It’s apparently the truth. Or one old lady’s version of it.”

“Merlin, this is a bunch of fantasy mumbo jumbo.” She grabbed at another sheet of paper as he hung his head, kneading the muscles of his neck between his hands. “Wait, does that say ‘dragon?’”

His hand shot out and yanked the papers from her, suddenly protective of the information. “Dragon Anam, yes. And look, Frey”—he sighed heavily—“none of this makes sense, and none of it directly impacts my research, but this woman we went to see...” He spread his hands out over the pages. “She knew my father. She knew Arthur. There are legends and prophecies and things I don’t understand, but this is the rough basics of the folklore of our people.”

“Dragons?” she asked with brows arched. “Merlin, your people? Your people are the result of a genetic mutation, just like the rest of us, not some mythical fairytale.”

“It’s a creation myth like any other, Turtle Island, Kalevala, Genesis, et cetera. This one explains where Arthur and I came from. Just because it’s not factual doesn’t mean it doesn’t hold potential key truths.” He stood up and paced around his office, recalling his second encounter with Finna.

“We went back to see her the next morning to ask about the Cynocephali, which was Arthur’s idea. She laughed at the stupidity of his father’s theory and told us this story.” He pointed at the mess on his desk. “She said that Uther had refused to accept that we could come from ‘imaginary’ creatures and clung to the notion that our origins must be rooted in the cynocephalus mythology – though I’m not sure what makes that any better. Just because dogs are tangible doesn’t mean that’s what we are or what we came from.”

Freya stood and touched her small hand to his. Looking up into his soft blue eyes with her warm brown ones, she said, “I’m going to make us some tea. We are going to shut off our phones. And you, Merlin Emrys, are going to tell me the story of your people.”

They settled on the floor of her office, slightly more spacious than his own, tea and biscuits set out between them. Merlin nervously chewed at the insides of his cheeks as he waited for her to get comfortable.

“Alright, I’m ready when you are,” she said softly.

He hesitated, swallowing deeply, unsure if he was ready to share this with anyone yet. Looking up into her sweet face, patient and kind, he knew she couldn’t judge him, wouldn’t. Freya had only ever been supportive and loving over the years, and he knew he could trust her. “It begins like this,” he said, slightly altering the cadence of his voice to one of storyteller.

“There were two dragons left in all the world – a grizzled and bitter old man and a fresh and innocent young girl. They were two sides of the same coin. For all his darkness, she was the light. He was scaly, hard and scorched nearly black with eyes of gold. Her skin was smooth and warm, a soft leathery cream, and her eyes shone like silvery diamonds. Where The Great One was bitterly exhausted of humankind, The Hatchling was cautiously hopeful that they could love her.

“When the scales of The Great One returned to the earth leaving The Hatchling alone in all the world, she wept a sea upon the earth and retreated into a mountain cave to live her long years in desperate solitude. Her name was Aithusa, the Light of the Sun.

“After centuries alone, her heart broken and torn, she built herself a great nest and filled it with eggs borne of her body. She breathed the magic of her fire over them, pouring all of her love and hope into each and every one. And then she waited.

“With great care she watched over her eggs, gently turning them with nose and wing, keeping them warm with her breath. As they began to hatch, she delighted to find tiny human-like babies emerging. She named them Emrys – The Immortal – knowing they would carry on so much longer than she would.” Freya’s brows rose gently at the name, but stayed silent. Merlin took a sip of his tea before carrying on.

“She nourished them from her teats with dragon's milk and in time brought them small animals she’d caught and roasted with her gentle fire. She raised her babies as only her instinct could encourage. They learned to hunt and fight and protect one another. They lived together in a great pack, a pod of dragonlings, the Dragon Anam Emrys – The Immortal Dragon Souls.”

“As years passed, Aithusa watched as her children began bearing children of their own, nesting in smaller groups, choosing lifemates to bond with. Their bodies obeyed the natural rhythms of the earth, just as hers had, unlike the common humans.

“Her family grew in great numbers as she aged. When the time to return her magic to the earth was upon her, she was the Great Mother of a small nation of dragon children.” He blew out the last of his breath and waited for her response.

She sat very still, watching him. He tried not to fidget under the scrutiny, failing miserably. He could feel the heat of his blush crawling uncomfortably down his neck and across his cheeks. Merlin waved a hand as he scrunched his nose. “I know. It’s garbage.” He made to stand and Freya lunged forward to stop him.

“No, Merlin. No. It’s a beautiful story.”

“But?”

“But I should tell you that the reason I came into your office this morning was to let you know I’d finished the analysis of Mrs. Michaels’ blood.” His entire body tensed, hovering in his half stand. “She’s Omega, too.”

 


	6. The Same Deep Waters As You

**August 2011**

 

When he wasn’t holed up in the lab, frantically combing over Mrs. Michaels’ family tree and mapping her Alpha/Omega lineage and tracking down her relatives for testing, Merlin spent the six-week wait getting to know Arthur, stupidly falling harder and harder with each passing day. As it turned out, there was a lot to love about the prat.

He was insanely generous, not just with his money and business but with his heart and time. He coached for a league of tiny footballers every Saturday morning. The kids were from a group home that Arthur maintained and supported for little ones lost in the system of foster care. He picked them up each weekend in a bus and drove them to a park for practise and games. Merlin couldn’t help but love him for it. Especially at how his entire face lit up when the kids frequently called out “Coach Artie!” to get his attention.

He was also brilliantly smart in all the ways that Merlin was not. He had studied business law at university, but had found time to study art history as well. When he wasn’t running Pendragon Technologies in Uther’s place, he was frequenting, and writing reviews for, art galleries in the city. He was passionate about theatre and enjoyed at least two plays per month, either with Morgana as his date or Uther when he was able.

Merlin found Arthur’s dedication to his father baffling yet endearing. The man had been no more than an imposing figure of discipline all of Arthur’s life — incapable of doting on his son with love and affection. Yet, Arthur adored him and cared for him in his illness as if Uther had been the most attentive and supportive father in the world. Merlin admired Arthur for his unending compassion.

He loved how in Morgana’s presence Arthur could be reduced to a small bashful boy, a bratty baby brother, and a fierce protector all at the same time. Merlin loved watching their interactions, seeing similarities with his relationship with Will, and getting to know Arthur the sibling.

He loved the way in which Arthur laughed heartily and unguarded, tossing his head back and letting his mirth fill a room. He loved the small way Arthur’s gaze made him feel safe and whole and happy, even from clear across a crowded room. He loved that even though he could have anyone in the world, Arthur wanted him just as much as he wanted Arthur.

Merlin loved all of those things about Arthur — how Arthur belonged to the world around him — but what Merlin loved most about Arthur were the many ways in which Arthur belonged to him.

“He’s like a puppy for you,” Morgana had marvelled one evening after a dinner at the manor. She and Merlin were sitting in the salon, half listening to Arthur and Leon relive their football glory days loudly on the other side of the room.

Merlin raised his brows at that and met her cool green gaze. “I’m sorry?”

She smirked slightly and cocked her head. “Don’t try to tell me you haven’t noticed it, Merlin.” She looked back at her brother and fiancé and sipped her wine. “You know how a dog loves to please his master, always bringing favourite toys, wanting to play fetch, anything to be told he’s a good boy? Well,”—she looked back at him—“that’s Arthur. For you.”

“Should I scratch him behind the ears and rub his belly?” He chuckled.

“I really don’t want to know what the two of you get up to behind closed doors, Merlin. But I’ve never seen him absolutely trip over himself to please someone before. Never. He’s always so chuffed to show you things, to take you places. Not once has he introduced a male partner to our father. Ever. He’s desperate to impress you in a way that is wholly unbecoming in a Pendragon.” She smiled at him, quite cattily and nearly purred. “He must truly think you’re worth it. Give him a bit of praise, and you’ll have a loyal companion for life.”

Merlin gave her words serious consideration in the front seat of Arthur’s car as he drove him back to his flat.  _He truly thinks I’m worth it._

 

~O~

 

When the results of their STI screenings came back perfectly clear, Gwaine graciously invited himself over to another mate’s place for beers leaving their flat all to Merlin and Arthur for the night. “I’ll be home around 2 a.m. If anything goes to pot before then, call me. And if not, I’ll try not to listen.” He smirked as he slapped Arthur’s rump on his way out the door.

Merlin was a mess of nerves but had taken his pills to take the edge off before Gwaine had left. He was anxious but exhilarated, and desperate to finally get his hands on Arthur. When Arthur walked back into the living room, lightly rubbing his backside to erase Gwaine’s touch, Merlin practically pounced on him. He stumbled backward with the force and landed hard in the armchair with a lap full of long legs and dazzling blue eyes.

“Why aren’t you naked yet?” he purred into Arthur’s ear, sliding his palms over his ribcage beneath his shirt. Arthur rolled his hips beneath Merlin, holding him around the waist, and kissed him deep and filthy. Merlin groaned and let his mouth be plundered, Arthur’s tongue exploring every nook and cranny, drawing Merlin’s tongue out to play too.

“Because,” he panted when they finally broke for air, “there’s an impatient git sitting on me.” He gently pushed Merlin back off his lap, standing to yank his shirt off over his head. “Come on then, let’s go.”

Merlin’s mouth watered at the sight of all that naked Alpha flesh, back muscles twisting gently beneath the skin as Arthur walked past him and into his bedroom, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on it — to actually feel it. He stripped as he followed, tripping over his jeans as he hopped out of them one foot at a time, and stumbled toward Arthur again, laughing.

“Idiot,” he smiled softly as he righted Merlin before him. They faced one another beside the bed in nothing but their pants. Arthur’s were crimson red briefs, giving Merlin the distinct impression of a Roman gladiator — all hard muscle and broad shoulders and glowing skin. His thighs, those self-proclaimed juicy thighs, were displayed to glorious effect with the cut of the briefs. Merlin wore a pair of tight navy boxer briefs, bought just for the occasion, a gift from Gwaine. He felt self-conscious of his pale skin and lean body in the presence of Arthur’s undeniable fitness, but he couldn’t change it and didn’t plan to. His hands twitched at his sides, torn between covering his visible scars or reaching out for Arthur again. He fought to hold still and let Arthur’s gaze take it all in. He let his eyes flutter closed and controlled his breathing, allowing Arthur’s scent to fully wash over him.

“Tell me again, Merlin,” Arthur asked, making sure to look him fully in the eye when he opened them. He had insisted that they have a clear way to communicate any discomfort at any time and figured a safe word was the way to go.

Merlin sighed in frustration, “Green for go, yellow to slow down and talk, red to stop. Now,” he growled, “don’t ask me again and just get on with it.”

Arthur chuckled as he pulled Merlin closer by the hips. “Bossy little tart,” he breathed into his mouth just before kissing him. The kiss began as small chaste pecks all over one another’s mouths and cheeks before turning into something deeper, something more.

“You like it.” Merlin chuckled when they parted briefly. Arthur moaned his agreement into the skin of Merlin’s neck as he mouthed his way down his throat. Revelling in the thrilling sensations of Arthur’s mouth on his skin, he let his head fall back as his eyes rolled up behind his lids.

Arthur’s hands, wide and confident, roamed over Merlin’s body, over angular shoulders and down his wiry back, pausing to grip at his hips or backside only to roam up again over his slim torso and into his hair. Merlin’s skin prickled pleasantly, and he could feel himself blushing all over from the new sensations. Trailing the same path over and over as he let his lips explore the tender flesh of Merlin’s neck, jaw and mouth, Arthur would occasionally pause and smile as a thumb over one of Merlin’s nipples or the scratch of his nails lightly through his dark chest hair caused a delighted shudder and moan in response. With every small smirk, Merlin would whisper, “prat,” before moaning anew with whatever pleasurable tortures Arthur employed.

Merlin felt like he did at the start of a heat — hot, sensitive, and needy, and he devoured Arthur’s touch like a starved man. He was drunk on Arthur’s scent and finally loving every minute of it, drowning happily in its sharpness.

Arthur led him onto the bed, never pushing, and Merlin followed eagerly. “You okay?” Arthur asked quietly, holding both of Merlin’s hands in his. He was more than okay, but he had no words to articulate how he felt — how it felt to finally be in his arms, to touch him freely without fear. It was dizzying, and he felt on the verge of hysterical laughter or tears. Biting his lips, Merlin simply nodded and pulled him into a kiss, lowering himself to lie back with Arthur poised above him. He let his hands slide over Arthur’s broad chest, feeling the coarse blond hair there, circling one of his pink nipples with his fingertips and a shy smile on his lips.

The gesture and expression made Arthur pause and hold Merlin’s hand flat to his chest for a moment. Doubt and fear flickered over Merlin’s eyes, and Arthur smiled warmly at him. “No, Merlin,” he whispered, “tonight is for you.”

Merlin bit his bottom lip but nodded. “Okay,” he breathed. “Yeah, okay.”

Arthur took his slender wrists in his hands then and guided them up over Merlin’s head on the bed and held him there as he kissed his mouth, filthy and wet. Merlin let himself relax fully under the grounding touch of Arthur’s presence, held firm and secure. New shudders of delight waved over him as Arthur let go of his wrists to gently trail his fingertips down the tender flesh of the insides of Merlin’s arms and to mouth hot open kisses over his chest. Closing his mouth over one of Merlin’s nipples, Arthur gave a slow pull of suction, which surprised him, causing Merlin to suddenly and painfully yank Arthur by the hair, pulling his face away.

Arthur glanced up to meet Merlin’s eyes and looked startled by what he saw. Merlin scowled sharply, and he was breathing heavily through his nose with his jaw muscles jumping at the clench of his teeth. “Too much?” Arthur asked.

“Does it normally...” Merlin panted for a moment, trying to find the words. “Is it supposed to...” He finally let go of Arthur’s hair and grabbed two handfuls of his own and shifted his legs on the bed restlessly. The sensation had completely caught him off guard, overwhelming him entirely.

“Talk to me, Merlin.” He reached up to soothe the crease between Merlin’s brows. “Supposed to what?” Arthur eyed him cautiously.

“I don’t know. Just”—he looked into Arthur’s eyes then—“maybe do it again. Now that I know it’s coming it won’t be so...” He hesitated, unable to find the word. “But, slowly.”

Nodding gently, Arthur held eye contact with him as long as he could, only breaking it when he dropped his head to swipe his tongue, flat and soft, over the same nipple he’d given his attention to before. He glanced back up quickly when he heard Merlin gasp but didn’t pause in his ministrations. As he closed his lips around it once more and gave gentle suction, Merlin’s hips lifted off the bed, searching, and he let out a low moan. Arthur lowered his body, pressing against Merlin’s to pin him to the bed. It was exactly what Merlin was craving, the deep pressure of being grounded.

“Oh god, Arthur,” he moaned. “Fuuuuck.” His brain felt scrambled, dimly aware of his surroundings, but entirely focused on the sensations of his body. He could feel the soft wetness of Arthur’s mouth and tongue on him, the harsh scratch of his stubbly chin on his sternum. Arthur’s hands held his arms up, firmly grasping him by the biceps, pinning them to the bed, as his torso pinned his hips down. The pressure of Arthur’s weight on him made him feel safe, cared for. He rubbed against Arthur’s belly as he writhed, reveling in the feeling of skin against skin.

Without warning, Arthur switched his focus to the other nipple, and Merlin’s body twitched and jerked beneath him. Jolts of electricity arced over his body, to his groin and to his nipples, radiating from his core. His gasps and moans became a high keening sound, sharp and desperate with every ragged breath. He was incoherently babbling by the time his body began to still under Arthur’s, and he had tears rolling into his ears from the corners of his eyes.

Arthur had slowly stopped, gently easing him down from the high, and pulled himself up to rest his head on the inside of Merlin’s bicep and kissed his tears away. “I’ve got you,” he murmured over and over until Merlin had calmed.

They lay like that for a while, Arthur gently stroking Merlin’s torso with long light touches, as Merlin recovered. He turned his face to kiss Arthur on the mouth, coyly. “So, that,” he whispered, “wasn’t what I expected.”

Arthur chuckled. “Me either, but it doesn’t surprise me, really. I honestly don’t think anything about you could shock me anymore. How do you feel?”

Merlin paused to consider an answer, pursing his lips slightly. Arthur buried his face in Merlin’s underarm to avoid kissing him while he thought and pulled away surprised.

“What?”

“I asked you first, are you okay?” he persisted before answering. Merlin nodded, suddenly concerned that Arthur was not okay, his face having gone drawn in concentration.

“I am, I think. I’m not hurt, or anything. I can’t explain what it felt like, though. Just, amazing,” he babbled, suddenly nervous by Arthur’s pained expression and rigid stillness. “What’s wrong? What did I do wrong?”

He started to pull away but Arthur tightened his grip around his chest, not letting him get away. He buried his face again under Merlin’s arm, rubbing his face there slowly. “Merlin,” he whispered into the soft hairs there, damp from his sweat. “I can smell you.”

“Of course you can, you clotpole, you’ve your face crammed in my armpit!” He giggled, trying to squirm away from Arthur again.

“I mean you. Your scent. My god,” he whispered, reverent. He looked up at Merlin then, suddenly still again, staring at him with wide blue eyes. “Merlin,” he said, voice sounding gruff, almost drugged. “Merlin, oh god, it’s like heaven.”

Merlin stared at him, at his flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and golden hair wild where he had pulled it a moment ago, and knew the overwhelming feeling he was experiencing. “What is it? What’s it like for you?” he asked, breathless.

Arthur buried his face in his scent again, inhaling deeply, practically rubbing in his armpit like a cat would. “It’s mouth watering. You’re juicy peaches and berries.” He breathed him in again. “Ripe and dripping, drizzled in honey and cream. Like a sultry summer day.” He laughed at himself then, trying to shake off the dizzying effect Merlin’s scent was having on him. “God, I could live in this smell forever. Is that how I smell to you?”

Merlin wriggled at that to turn onto his side and face Arthur, sliding one of his long thighs between Arthur’s meatier ones. Gazing into his face, trailing a fingertip along his hairline and to his jaw, Merlin answered, “No,” with a wistful smile. “To me, you smell like the exact opposite of that, really.”

Hypnotized by Merlin’s touch, now tracing over his blond brows and over the sharp bridge of his nose, Arthur whispered, “Like what?”

Merlin hummed in quiet contemplation, enjoying lying half-naked in the arms of his beloved Prince Pratness, body still slightly thrumming from his orgasm. Sighing with a smile, he looked deep into Arthur’s eyes before responding. “It’s cold, or something.” He breathed out. “Does that make any sense? It’s crisp and clean, too, like...” He inhaled again, letting the pheromones wash over his olfactory nerves, sending messages of want and need through his entire body. “Arthur, you smell like campfire in a winter forest. Like pine sap and wood smoke and something fresh but cold, maybe spicy, too.” Merlin shrugged. He could feel himself thickening in his cotton pants from Arthur’s touch, pressed against his thigh, and suddenly felt ravenous for him.

Before Merlin could pounce, Arthur murmured contentedly, “Like my birthday,” as if that statement made any sense at all, and closed his eyes to breathe Merlin in again.

“Arthur?”

“Hmmm?”

“What’s like your birthday?” He giggled.

He snuggled Merlin tighter yet to himself and said, “My birthday every year, that’s what we have: peaches and strawberries with cream and honey out in the garden. On the summer solstice.” Merlin tensed at that and pushed slightly away from Arthur to look him in the face. “What?” he asked.

“Arthur, are you telling me that what you smell on me is your favourite birthday dessert? AND that your birthday is the summer solstice?”

Arthur’s brow furrowed slightly. “You knew my birth date from my file, Merlin. But yeah, why? Is that weird? I like that you smell like my favourite thing to eat.” He leaned in and playfully nipped at Merlin’s soft white skin.

Merlin’s brows arched under his messy black curls. “Well, is it weird that my birthday is the winter solstice and that for my birthday every year I go hiking and camp overnight in the woods by a lake?”

“Okay, that is weird.” He laughed. “We really are a pair of weirdos.”

“Apparently, we’re a matched set of weirdos.”

“Right.” Arthur rolled suddenly over Merlin, caging him between his arms against the bed. “So, my sweet smelling Omega.” He dropped a kiss onto the smiling face beneath his. “How do you feel about a second orgasm, or a third?” He ground his erection down against Merlin’s, buffered by the thin layers of fabric of their pants. “I could try for four, but I’m worried you might break.”

Merlin laughed and swung his long legs up and around Arthur’s hips, pulling him down hard against him. “You can’t ride a stallion you haven’t broken, Sire,” he said, low and sultry, and smiled as he felt Arthur’s cock twitch against him. He traced the tip of his tongue across Arthur’s bottom lip and moaned when it was sucked into his mouth and claimed. When Arthur let him go, his eyes were glassy with desire, pupils blown wide. With a growl he devoured the tender skin of Merlin’s throat once more, and he ground his hips down pressing their throbbing cocks together deliciously again. “Break me,” Merlin gasped.

Arthur sat back abruptly, his mouth swollen and red, his hair a wild sweaty mess. “Off,” he ordered, taking Merlin’s pants by the waistband and pulling them down. Merlin grumbled a quiet “bossy” at him but lifted his hips and bent his knees appropriately to rid himself of the pants, allowing Arthur to pull them down over his long legs and toss them over his shoulder.

He held his breath then as Arthur slid his hands up over his legs, gently caressing over his thighs and hips with his short nails, not lingering on the scars but acknowledging them as much a part of him as the rest. Arthur’s gaze raking over his naked body made Merlin’s blush creep down over his chest.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, tracing his fingertips between his hipbones and around his navel. “Pink from your cheekbones to your belly button, just for me.” His voice was low and sultry, causing Merlin to blush more deeply, skin breaking out in a thin sweat.

He was a little embarrassed by the way his belly muscles jumped and tightened with his breathing, which was becoming more and more ragged the longer Arthur teased his flesh, and it made him wish for Arthur to bury his face against it.

Arthur took his time, savouring each whimper, each moan he pulled from Merlin’s lips, and Merlin was too far gone to complain, simply taking all Arthur was willing to give him. He nuzzled his thighs and the crook of his hips, drinking in the strength of Merlin’s Omega scent, stronger there than under his arms. “So good,” he breathed into his skin.

Merlin clenched his fingers in the sheets beneath him as Arthur’s touch sent waves of pleasure over him, making him mad with desire. Arthur’s touch was light and gentle, driving Merlin slowly out of his mind. It was too much too soon, or not enough not nearly fast enough. He either needed Arthur to stop or to give him more, but he wasn’t sure which would save his sanity. “Please,” he begged when the teasing of Arthur’s mouth dropping open kisses along the length of his cock had his thighs trembling.

“Please, what?” Arthur nudged his legs apart to make room to settle there, and Merlin spread himself eagerly, shamelessly.

The sight of Arthur, bare chested and golden, propped on his elbows between his spread thighs licking his plush lips through a wicked grin made Merlin want to throttle him.

“Oh god, you massive prat.” The sound of Merlin’s desperate frustration caused Arthur to chuckle against his tender skin, and Merlin whined, “Jesus fuck, Arthur. Just, please!”

The first touch of Arthur’s tongue to the head of his cock caused him to cry out and push his hips up against Arthur’s hands. The heat of it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, but when Arthur tightened his grip on his hips and dropped his head down to take him further into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the shaft, Merlin heard himself let out a string of curses filthy enough to make a sailor in a whorehouse blush.

It didn’t take long, with the heat of Arthur’s mouth and the tight suction of his lips around his cock, for Merlin to feel the jolts of pleasure ripple through his body. As Arthur hollowed out his cheeks and swirled his tongue along the thick vein on the underside of his shaft, the internal switch was flipped at Merlin’s core, and he shivered as the electricity danced through him once more.

His toes curled, his hands pulled frantically at Arthur’s hair, and his brain short-circuited as the current tore through his body. His muscles tensed and relaxed over and over and he trembled as Arthur swallowed him down again and again. His throat felt raw from the ragged shouting dragged through it.

Without the familiar release of semen, Arthur simply watched Merlin’s reactions and slowed his rhythm as he felt the waves washing over Merlin space out and drift away. Looking up at him as he let his softening cock pop from his mouth, he was obviously enthralled by the sight before him. “Look at you,” he whispered, “fuck, Merlin.”

He could feel his hair was soaked at the temples and was likely curling around his ears, his fringe was stuck to his forehead in places and his wild curls had been yanked this way and that by his own hands. Glancing down at himself he saw the sweet blush Arthur had crooned about before had darkened to a blotchy red of arousal. The lines of his scars were a web of silver threads across the thin pink skin of his hips and thighs. He let his eyes flutter shut for a moment, letting his senses slowly return.

“You look positively obscene,” Arthur growled. Merlin smiled cheekily up at him through crinkled eyes. “Turn over,” he commanded.

“Hmm, I thought I was the bossy tart?” Merlin smiled happily as he turned over, pressing his bare arse against Arthur’s covered groin. He pouted briefly. “You’re wearing too much, Sire.” He reached back to tug lazily at Arthur’s briefs. His hand was caught in Arthur’s and dragged back up the bed to rest beneath the pillow as Arthur found the other and did the same. He pressed his body flush against Merlin’s back, pressing his erection into the cleft of his buttocks.

“I’m not through breaking you, yet,” he breathed hotly into Merlin’s ear, causing him to let out a sob of pure want. He shivered slightly as Arthur drew back away from his body, leaving him cold and exposed. “Leave your hands there, Merlin. Don’t move.”

He swallowed deeply and simply nodded, turning his face down into the pillows to muffle his moan as Arthur’s large hands grabbed him by the hips and yanked him to his knees. With his chest pressed against the bedding damp with his sweat, he felt the mattress springs bounce as Arthur left the bed.

He should have felt exposed and vulnerable. He should have felt embarrassed on display like that. Yet as he felt the bed dip again as Arthur climbed back on, kneeling behind him, all Merlin could feel was intense pride that Arthur wanted him like this.

Arthur raked his nails up over the back of Merlin’s thighs and buttocks and settled his palms on his hips, and Merlin twined his fingers together beneath the pillow to remind himself to keep them there. He suspected that Arthur had left the bed to strip off his last bit of clothing and glanced down beneath himself to catch sight of his naked form between his own thighs.

He was kneeling, but sitting back on his heels, between Merlin’s legs. His erection stood thick and proud against his tight golden belly in its nest of trimmed dark blond hair. Where Merlin’s thighs were lean and pale and scattered with fine black hairs, Arthur’s were thick and tanned with coarse blonde hair all the way up to the top of his legs. The sight of it all made Merlin light-headed, and he choked out another sob of desire.

Arthur began sliding his palms slowly over Merlin’s lower back and hips again, soothing him, grounding him once more. He felt a short gust of breath ghost over his exposed flesh, and his muscles involuntarily clenched inward at the feeling. He felt embarrassed by the reaction until he heard Arthur groan in awe.

Curious, he clenched his muscles again to see if Arthur would react similarly again. There was a sound of pure desire uttered behind him, and Merlin felt a rush of blood through his body as something hot and wet moved against him, urgently at first, hot and hard, then it softened and slowed, swirling against his arse deliciously. It dawned on him that he could still feel Arthur’s hands on his hips, and he craned his neck around to see.  _What is tha – Oh. My. God._ The sight of Arthur’s face buried between his arse cheeks, eyes rolled back, nose pressed to his crease, and what could only be his devilish tongue swirling madly against his hole, made Merlin jerk away slightly.

“Oh god,” he choked. “That’s a thing?”

Arthur’s lips, red and spit shiny with his efforts, twisted into a half smile. “Yeah, that’s a thing. Do you want me to stop?”

“Lord no, you haven’t even properly started, don’t stop.”

He eagerly tipped his hips back, giving Arthur full access once again, and let his head drop back into the pillow. He felt Arthur laugh quietly against his skin, breath cool in the slick wetness caused by his mouth, and let himself surrender completely as Arthur kissed him there again.

There were moans and gasps, though Merlin couldn’t be sure whose were whose, and the obscene sound of wet filling his small bedroom. The pillow beneath his face was damp with either tears or drool. Likely both. For a while he forgot where he was or what was happening. He simply felt submerged in hot wet pleasure that plunged into his core. Before long he could feel the tingle of the tiny electric shocks growing along his spine, getting lower, closer to his groin, arcing to meet Arthur in all the places his skin touched Merlin’s. His cock twitched, tight and hard, and he realized Arthur was stroking him.

He could hear him quietly urging him on, encouraging him to let go, and wondered for a moment how he was talking with his face pressed so deep into his ass. Before he could voice this question aloud, a sudden sharp shock-wave rippled through his body, and he nearly howled with it.

“There we go, that’s it, love. Let go.” He heard Arthur murmuring behind him as the wave hit him over and over again.

It was like being thrown over a cliff into the sea — a dizzying fall before being caught in hot turbulent waters, only to be tossed carelessly among the waves in a wild ride toward the sanctuary of the distant shore. He’d screamed, he was sure. His throat felt raw. There were tears streaming from his eyes, and he gasped and sobbed for air through the ordeal. Through it all, he could feel Arthur there, holding him, keeping him safe, telling him he had him.

Once the madness calmed, Merlin came to awareness cradled in Arthur’s arms, being hushed like a babe. He realized Arthur was gripping his arms like a lifeline, fingers digging painfully into his biceps but easing off as he came around. His heart was still hammering in his chest, and his breathing was still erratic.

Arthur was gently kissing his brows and nose between soothing noises, stroking his wet hair away from his face. When Merlin looked up into Arthur’s eyes, he expected to see a look of smug satisfaction, his Prince Pratness. Instead he saw Arthur gazing at him fondly, as if he were staring at a beloved treasure, and it made his breath catch in his throat.

“Hi,” Arthur whispered.

Merlin’s heart did stupid things in his chest, but he couldn’t really blame it, as it had been thoroughly exhausted over the last hour and couldn’t really be expected to behave itself. Somehow, he managed to blush, which seemed impossible given his current state, but it happened nonetheless. “Hey.”

“Welcome back.” Arthur smiled. Merlin frowned, confused.

“Where did I go?” he murmured into the small space between them.

“Somewhere far away,” Arthur whispered.

“For how long?” His frown deepened, causing Arthur to kiss it gently away.

“A while. A bit longer than a minute, I think.”

“What did you do while I was gone?” He trailed a fingertip along Arthur’s bottom lip and down under his chin. Arthur pulled him tight against his chest then, tucking Merlin under one arm, his head pillowed against his shoulder.

“I kept you safe.”

They lay like that for a long time, and Merlin wondered if Arthur had fallen asleep. His breathing was deep and his body lax beneath him, but Merlin sensed that Arthur was smiling against his hair. He didn’t want to move. It was the first time he’d shared a bed with someone that didn’t make him feel like he was suffocating. Arthur’s arms around him, leg tossed casually over his, felt comforting and pleasant, not painful or threatening like Freya’s or Gwaine’s. He gently tightened his hold on Arthur in a little squeeze-like hug and smiled softly at the small noise Arthur made in response.

He remembered what they’d been doing before his little trip to oblivion and said, “I didn’t know you were a ventriloquist.”

Arthur moved his face away from Merlin’s hair, rubbing his cheek where his lips had been. “I’m sorry, pardon?”

Merlin rolled gently, pulling himself to lie on his belly and folded his arms under his chin on Arthur’s chest. “Well,” he started as he blushed, casting his eyes downward, noticing the swirls of golden chest hair beneath him. “One minute you’re up to your eyebrows between my arse cheeks, which by the way, was an even better surprise than the thing with my nipples.” He looked up, his face dimpling as Arthur smiled appreciatively at the praise. “And then I hear you talking to me, telling me to let go, and I saw stars and thought I might actually be dead for a while, but I swear you never took your tongue off me.” Merlin bounced gently as Arthur laughed, causing him to blush even harder.

Arthur tensed forward, nudging Merlin off of his chest, and rolled over him on the bed. “You precious idiot, Merlin.” He kissed Merlin’s surprised pout at the insult, and chuckled quietly to himself in the crook of Merlin’s neck. “I started with my tongue, but I used my hand, too.” He lifted a hand and waggled his broad fingers before Merlin’s face. “That spot I touched that made you see stars and not quite die but most definitely faint, that’s your prostate, my sciencey scientist man, tough to reach with your tongue, unless you’re a giraffe, I suppose. I thought you were a doctor of some sort, haughtily throwing around the word vagina and things. Really Merlin, these are things you should know.” His smile would have been blinding had Merlin not actually already been squinting heavily at him.

Merlin shoved at his shoulder and mouthed “prat” at him.

“So, yeah, that glorious sensation was a prostate orgasm, courtesy of these three fingers.” He gave Merlin the Boy Scout salute. “You’re welcome.”

Merlin’s eyes widened comically. “You put all three of those”—he nodded toward Arthur’s hand, still saluting—"up my arse, at the same time??” Arthur’s eyes had gone dark with lust, causing Merlin to swallow down with an audible gulp. “No wonder I fainted.”

“Had to finish breaking you in for the final ride,” he very nearly purred against Merlin’s ear, causing his cock to jump in anticipation. “You’ve been so good.” He switched ears, kissing along Merlin’s Adam’s apple on his way. “I’ve been so patient.” Merlin’s toes curled, and his eyes rolled back into his head as Arthur tongued his earlobe and sucked it into his mouth. “God, I want you,” he groaned.

“Yes,” Merlin gasped as Arthur sank his teeth into his lobe.

“Yes what, Merlin?” He pushed his hips down pressing their cocks together, drawing a hiss of pleasure-pain from Merlin’s lips before he could answer.

“Yes, Sire.” Arthur rolled his hips in response and imperiously cocked his eyebrow at him. “Ah! Yes, please, Arthur. I’m yours, all yours,” he began to beg, straining his hips to meet the slow torturous roll of Arthur’s.

He was slow and gentle, pausing to let Merlin adjust to the sensation of being filled. Arthur was careful to use a lot of lube, applying more every so often as he worked the length of his cock inside of him. Merlin could feel the tension vibrating through Arthur’s body as he fought the urge to sink into him all at once. His cheeks were red, and there were beads of sweat on his lip and brow that Merlin wanted to lick off.

Arthur seemed to be everywhere, surrounding him, filling him, holding him up and pressing him down. Merlin’s heart raced and his head reeled, loving every moment of the intensity of being high on all things Arthur.

He shifted his position as his hips began a slow roll, pulling Merlin’s legs around his waist and caging his torso with his arms. “Perfect,” he whispered into Merlin’s mouth as he snapped his hips forward and caught Merlin’s moan with a kiss.

Once he began thrusting in earnest, Merlin could feel Arthur’s restraint vanish. He pounded his hips against the backs of his legs, the sound of the slap of flesh on flesh filling the room. Merlin panted and keened and writhed under the assault, begging for more the entire time. He stared at Arthur, coming undone above him, and thought,  _Fuck, he’s wrecked. I wrecked him_ , with a shiver of pride.

A slight change of angle then, and Arthur’s cockhead rammed into that starry place again. Merlin grabbed hold of him with everything he had; arms, legs, and arse tensed around whatever part of Arthur they could get as he shouted. That did it for Arthur; he tensed and shouted, too.

Merlin wanted to feel a great sense of triumph as he watched Arthur’s orgasm overtake him, but the second he felt the warm splash of Arthur’s come inside of him a shock ran up his spine like a lightning bolt. Every nerve was lit on fire, and Merlin could do nothing but ride out the spasms that overtook his body, clouding his senses.

His breathing was too loud, ragged and harsh, once his hearing returned, and he could feel something warm between his legs. His vision was still blurred and hazy and he couldn’t see what it was, but he knew Arthur was cleaning him. He felt mildly nauseated and disoriented and let his eyes close to block it all out. He shivered lightly, teeth chattering together. Suddenly he was warm and safe, surrounded again, as Arthur curled around him beneath the covers. He let the sense of security wash over him and drag him away into a deep and dreamless sleep.

 

~O~

 

_He won’t stay._

Merlin’s eyes opened and he felt his heart start to race.

_He got what he wants._

He glanced over at Arthur. He was turned away from him on his side, the long curve of his back visible in the dim street light through the window.

_See? He won’t even touch you._

“Stop,” he whispered, pressing the heel of his palm to his chest. He tried to steady his breathing, slowly inhaling through his nose, and screwed his eyes shut tight.

_You’re pathetic. You gave him nothing. Just taking and taking like the selfish prick you are._

Merlin’s blood raced through his body, his internal engine running on pure terror, seeking escape. He could feel his pulse all over, drumming into his soul. He could feel the stream of silent  _no no no no no_  falling from his lips and the hot sting of tears in his eyes. He clasped his hands, fingers long and trembling, over the tops of this thighs and dug his thumbs into his flesh as hard as he could.

“Merlin?”  _Scare him away, like you always do_. Merlin whimpered back a sob. “Jesus Merlin, breathe!”

Arthur was hovering over him, unsure of what to do. Merlin’s body was tensed, every muscle clenched hard. His knuckles were white where his hands dug into his legs, and he was choking for breath through his sobs. “Where are your pills? Merlin! Look at me! Where are your pills?”  _You don’t deserve them._ “GWAINE!” Arthur leapt off the bed and flung open the bedroom door.

_He’s running. You’re not worth it._

His head was being cradled and fingers prodded his mouth open. He stared up into the warm hazel eyes of his best friend. “Swallow, Legs.” The familiar bitter taste of his pills flooded his mouth, and he swallowed instinctively to clear it.

“How long before it stops?” Arthur’s voice was far away.  _He’s probably by the door, waiting to bolt._

“A few minutes,” Gwaine said over his shoulder. “Merlin, babe. Let’s fix your legs, okay? Can you let go?” There was a pathetic whimper, which Merlin was embarrassed to have made. “Come on.” Gwaine pulled gently at his fingers. “Let me, okay? We’ll get the bad blood out, I promise.”

“What the fuck are you doing? You’re not going to cut him, are you?” Arthur sounded terrified. Merlin felt relief.  _Gwaine will fix it_ , he thought.  _Gwaine will make it go away._

“It’s called a blood stop,” he said as he walked his palms up Merlin’s long thighs, feeling for the pulse. When he was satisfied with his position, he raised his hips so he was standing on his hands and feet over Merlin’s tense sobbing body and let gravity force his weight down onto his thighs near his groin and waited. He turned his head to look at Arthur. “It gives him as close to the sensation of cutting as we can safely get him, okay? It works, his therapists know we do it.” He let go abruptly, causing Merlin’s body to relax and he let out a groan of relief. “And it can’t hurt him.”

Merlin lay there, with Gwaine kneeling between his thighs, and let the whoosh of blood through his system push away his fear. His breathing gradually evened out, and he reached for Gwaine.

“You okay, Merls?” Gwaine whispered as he curled up beside him and pulled him into his arms. Merlin was vaguely aware of Arthur awkwardly standing beside his bureau watching them. He nodded, but still cried. “Get it all out, love.” Gwaine ran his hands through Merlin’s hair, pulling him close to his chest. “Wash it out.”

He couldn’t tell whether or not Arthur was still in the room — the entire room reeked of Alpha to him — but he clung for dear life to Gwaine, not caring if Arthur was present or not. He felt his hands, firm and sure, pressing against his bare back, gripping his skin — the numbness of the touch a comfort to him.

“Merlin,” he whispered, “did he hurt you?” He shook his head no. Gwaine moved to grip his biceps and look down at him. “Do you want him to leave?”

“No.”

“Do you want him to come hold you?”

“Yes.” He sniffed.

Gwaine let go of his arm and gestured to Arthur. Merlin felt the bed dip behind him and the heat of Arthur’s body against his back. A tentative arm looped under his and wrapped around his chest.

“Are you okay if I go now?” Merlin involuntarily gripped Gwaine tighter and whimpered. He saw Gwaine look past him over his shoulder. “Are you okay if I stay?” He felt Arthur nod.

Merlin was past caring what Arthur thought of him at this moment. He just needed to be surrounded with their strength and courage while he floundered, lost and afraid.

Arthur settled himself behind Merlin, awkwardly, as three grown men could barely manage to fit into Merlin’s bed. He reached a hand out to touch Gwaine’s shoulder, connecting gazes over Merlin’s head. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Gwaine gave him a lopsided smile. “Same.”

 

~O~

 

Arthur: Got time to come have lunch with me?

Merlin: Where? I thought you were swamped?

A: I am about to head into one of the most boring meetings in the universe. It would keep me awake if I knew you were waiting for me at the end of it. Grab some takeaway and we can hide in my office.

M: Of course. I’m sick of looking at stuff that makes no sense to me, anyway.

A: Perfect. 1pm. My office. xo

M: Yes, Sire.

Merlin looked at his watch as he stood impatiently in line at the deli for their lunch. He was fairly sure he wasn’t going to be late but didn’t want to waste any of Arthur’s day and still had to walk to his office building.

Pleased to arrive with seven minutes to spare, Merlin stepped into the spacious lobby of Pendragon Technologies for the first time, struck by its opulence. The company name and logo spanned a marble wall in gold lettering to his left, and to his right was a lush indoor garden and small waterfall. Folks in three-piece suits bustled around him, and he suddenly felt woefully underdressed in his torn jeans and converse — which squeaked on the marble flooring, to his eternal horror. He hadn’t been interviewing anyone, using the day to catch up on analysis and paperwork, and had simply dragged on his comfy clothes.

As he approached the security desk, he was surprised to see a familiar face. “Elyan Thomson?” He smiled widely.

“Merlin! Good to see you, man!” They shook hands, and Elyan clapped a solid hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you were in London!”

“Yeah, since I left Ealdor! How’ve you been? How’s Gwen?”

“She’s great. She’s taken over Dad’s metalsmithing shop.”

Merlin nodded. “I was sorry to hear about your dad’s passing. Mum told me when it had happened.”

Elyan shrugged one shoulder, and continued, “She just got married last month, too. He’s a fantastic bloke. You’d love him, I’m sure.” His beaming smile faltered slightly. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I know you were sweet on her.”

“Elyan, it’s fine. I’m glad she’s happy.” They shared an awkward smile, and Merlin turned slightly, lifting the bags of food. “I should...” He waved his hand lamely toward the lifts.

“Right, yeah. Sorry. Running delivery then? Who’s it for?” Before Merlin could answer the large conference room doors opened, executives spilling out, Arthur among them.

“Oh, I’m not.” But he understood, given his appearance, why Elyan would assume he was working as a delivery boy. He looked like he had stepped straight off of a college campus. Before he could clarify, Arthur bellowed out from the doors where he’d seen his guests off.

“Thomson! Stop pestering the poor man.” He sauntered over as Elyan sharpened his posture and mumbled an apology. “Hello, gorgeous.” Arthur snaked an arm around Merlin’s waist and kissed him with a loud smack on the cheek. Merlin felt his cheeks colour vividly as he watched Elyan’s face. “Have you met my boyfriend, Doctor Emrys, then?”

Merlin detached himself from Arthur’s grasp and smiled stiffly. “Yes, we were just catching up. Elyan and I were neighbours as children in Ealdor.”

“Oh, so then you know how brilliant he is, then.” Arthur beamed with pride, making Merlin blush further and mouth ‘shut up’. Elyan smiled politely, but Merlin could see the embarrassment in his dark eyes.

“Come on, Arthur, before the soup gets too cold.” Merlin tugged him by the hand toward the lifts. “I’ll stop to chat on my way down, then, Elyan.” Once inside with the doors shut he turned to Arthur. “Well, that was mortifying, so thank you.”

“What did I do?” Arthur asked, oblivious to any possible fault in his behaviour.

“Nothing, really.” Merlin let out a sigh. “It’s not like you knew we knew one another. But the last time I saw Elyan, I was a spotty teen with shite health who was failing school and who pined after his younger sister, Gwen.” Arthur scrunched his nose and smiled at the image. “And before you jumped in just now, he assumed I was a delivery boy for the fucking deli down the road. Before I could correct him politely, you breeze in, wave my bloody degree under his nose and out me!” Arthur had the good grace to look sheepish at that and breathe in a sharp hiss.

“Shit.”

“Yes. Shit.”

The doors opened then, and Arthur led the way to his office. Once they were in and settled, after a quick stop to give Mithian a kiss and a hello, Arthur took Merlin’s hands in his. “I’m a prat. I know. I can’t believe I did that without thinking, and you’re absolutely right to be mad at me. But I am sorry.” His big blue eyes held such sincerity that Merlin struggled to stay upset.

He shrugged his shoulders and with a smile, said, “It’s okay. But you owe me, Pendragon. Big time.”

“Fine, fine.  Put your damned dimples away.  Let’s eat.”

Sitting on the floor and digging in, Merlin asked around a mouthful of sandwich, “How come you use this small office when you’re the Big Boss?”

Arthur waved his spoon vaguely toward the end of the hallway where Merlin could see a wide set of double doors. “That’s my father’s office. I keep it for him out of respect. He won’t be able to come back to work, but I won’t move into his office while he’s still with us.”

“What happened to him? Do you mind me asking?”

Arthur sighed. “No. No, it’s fine. It’s just not pretty. So, I told you my uncle is in jail for fraud and manipulating Morgana, yes?” Merlin nodded. “Well, when Morgana came of age, Agravaine convinced her that Father owed her stock in the company. Which he did, and she had it, too. But Agravaine blames my father for what happened to my mother and wanted to cut him off at the knees. He got Morgana a job here, working web design, and had her hack into accounting. They worked slowly, never taking enough to raise alarms. However, within three years they’d done so much damage to the company that my father was pouring his own money into it to keep the employees paid. Once they were caught, my father had a breakdown. The betrayal destroyed him. Agravaine went to jail; Morgana reluctantly retrieved what capital she could. But our father could no longer run the company and Morgs obviously wasn’t permitted back at the company. We divided what was left, I finished my degree, and then stepped in.

“I own the business; she owns the estate where my father and I live. He needs the comfort of his home, and she grants him that while he’s so ill. But really, she could evict us at any time. She’s still very angry at him, but plays nice for my sake. It’s taken time to get where they are now. I’m hopeful they’ll reconcile eventually.”

It was a lot to take in, but Merlin knew the weight of it sat crushingly on Arthur’s shoulders. “I’m sure they will.” He smiled slightly lopsided. “You’re a good son and an amazing man, Arthur. They’re both lucky to have you.”

He leaned forward into Merlin’s space and smiled. “I’m lucky to have _you_.” Arthur kissed him softly.

When he pulled away slightly to sit back, Merlin grabbed him by the lapel and yanked him back in for a much less chaste kiss. The sound of the intercom buzzing startled them apart, and they started giggling as they heard Mithian’s voice, nasal through the machine, say, “Arthur, you either need blinds for your office, or I’m going to need a raise to cover the emotional trauma of watching you two make out like teenagers on your office floor.” Arthur flipped her the two finger salute when he saw her sticking her tongue out at them through the glass wall of his office.

They started to gather up the waste from their indoor picnic then, and Arthur asked, “So what’s new and troubling in the lab?”

Merlin dropped the bag into the bin and sat heavily in the chair he’d used as a backrest while sitting on the floor. He stretched out, scratching short nails gently through his tousled hair, and groaned slightly. “I’m up against a brick fucking wall, is what’s troubling, but hardly new.”

Arthur sat behind his desk but leaned forward on his elbows. “Talk me through it.”

“Well, for starters”—Merlin held up his hand to mark off items with his fingers—“Alpha sperm is identical in makeup to Beta sperm, so that is a dead end.”

“You mean I don’t have magic dragon sperm? How thoroughly disappointing.” Arthur pouted.

“Then,”—Merlin stuck up another finger—“Alpha seminal fluid is bloody identical to Beta seminal fluid. In every way. So I am trying to figure out what causes fertilization of the Omega ova, which are drastically different in makeup from Beta ova. What happens at the point of fertilization that allows Alpha through and not Beta?”

“So you have magic dragon eggs?” Arthur pouted again. “No fair.”

Merlin sighed, ignoring Arthur’s childish comments. “Omega ova are rock hard. Harder than that. They’re practically made of diamonds. Any and all attempts at artificial insemination or in vitro insemination results in either the egg shattering or the equipment shattering. There’s no getting through the outer cell wall.

“And more than that, we can’t fertilize an Omega ova with Alpha sperm in a petri dish at all. It won’t happen in a lab environment, not even with elevated temperatures to simulate a heat cycle.” He dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I think I need to go back to see Finna.”

“I’m all for another weekend away. Especially since we could get just one room this time.” Merlin laughed at the way Arthur’s brows waggled as he spoke.

“Alright, perv. You book the room and get back to work. I’ve got to go do damage control in your lobby on my way out.”

 

~O~

 

“Red.”

Merlin’s breathing went from an excited panting to a ragged gasping within seconds. Arthur seemed oblivious to the change or the fact that Merlin had spoken. Panic was seeping in at the edges and Merlin could feel himself losing control. He tried again. “Arthur, stop.”

But Arthur was engrossed in the task of sucking marks onto the underside of Merlin’s outstretched arm as he tied it firmly to the bedpost. “Mmm, you’re gonna love this,” he murmured into the bruise he’d created. Merlin’s mind was reeling and his body had gone rigid.

“Red. Red, Arthur!” he snapped. That grabbed his attention, and he raised his head to meet Merlin’s eyes. He was shocked to see sheer terror in them. “Untie me,” he gasped. “Now.”

Arthur moved quickly to loosen the knot he’d been tying then, and Merlin pulled his arm to his chest, rolling toward the other hand as Arthur undid the knots there. Once he was free, he crossed his arms, tucking his hands firmly under them and sat up on the edge of the bed to try to regain his composure.

“Merlin?” Arthur hovered behind him on the bed, as if afraid to touch him again.

Merlin’s breathing was evening out, and he’d stopped gently rocking back and forth. “I’m okay,” he said, in attempt to reassure Arthur. “You didn’t know.” Arthur moved to sit behind him then, one leg to either side of his body, and laid his cheek against the back of his shoulder. Merlin whispered to him, “You didn’t know.”

Arthur gently looped his arms around Merlin’s waist and swayed gently side to side with him, kissing his shoulders with little pecks. “No,” he whispered. “I didn’t.” After a few minutes, the tension in Merlin’s shoulders released, and he let his arms drop loose over Arthur’s around his middle. “They tied you down.” It wasn’t a question, and Merlin didn’t feel the need to confirm or deny it.

Merlin patted Arthur’s arms gently and turned, urging Arthur back onto the bed where he cuddled up under his arm against his chest. He wrapped his long arms around Arthur’s waist and let out a sigh. “I know why they did, though. It was for my safety and theirs. But I hated it. I wasn’t in control of the situation in any way, but being tied just made it so much worse. Like...” He hesitated, trying not to bring all of the shame and guilt to the present with him. “It was probably the most devastating part of going into heat. I felt violated by it, even though it was to protect me.”

Arthur shuffled his position so that he and Merlin were face to face. “My mates and I, back at uni, were out one night for a pub crawl. Leon was there, and a few other guys from the team. Well, Leon noticed at one point that I was really out of it, far more drunk than the rest of them. But we were in a huge group, and nobody really paid it any mind. Except Leon. He stopped drinking and started watching.”

Merlin stared into Arthur’s huge blue eyes, fearing he knew where this story was leading. He gave his hands a light squeeze to show support and urge him to continue. “There was this one bloke on the team, Cedric. Bit of an outsider, but we did our best to include him. Leon saw him drop something into a pint when it was his turn to buy the next round. I remember none of this, not even to this day. But Leon says I left to go to the loo and never came back. When he realized Cedric was gone, too, he came looking.”

He took a deep shuddering breath and gave Merlin a lopsided smile. “He found me in the alley behind the pub, bent over a bin with my pants around my ankles and Cedric behind me spitting into his hand. He beat the shit out of the bastard, got me dressed proper again and dragged me to a hospital. I was lucky he didn’t get any further. But I know the anger caused by having one’s control taken from them. And the shame, of it, too. It’s something Leon and I have never discussed. You’re the only other person who knows.”

Merlin sniffed back his tears, and wrapped his arms and legs around Arthur’s body, pulling him close like an octopus. He made a sound into the middle of Arthur’s chest that made Arthur smile despite being no more than a muffled mess. “What was that, you idiot? I can’t hear you over your girlish blubbering.”

“I said,” Merlin clarified, pulling his face back to look up at Arthur’s smug smirk, “that I love you, you big prat.”

Arthur’s face broke into a blinding smile at that, and he swiped his thumbs across Merlin’s cheekbones to dry his tears. “Idiot,” he whispered. “I loved you first.”

 


	7. Hot! Hot! Hot!

**May 2013**

 

Sunday mornings were his favourite, nowhere to go and no one to see. Merlin wanted to live forever in Sunday mornings with Arthur.

He wasn’t quite awake, but he was aware that the room was lightening beyond his eyelids, and his dreams had faded away to the realm where they made perfect sense. He felt his skin come up in goosebumps as the sheets were pulled slowly back.

He lay on his belly with his arms up around his head and pretended he was still deep in slumber as he felt Arthur’s fingertips lightly trace lines on his back. They swooped and swirled in long lines and loose patterns from shoulders to waist, over and over again. He let out a blissful sigh, enjoying the sensation of being worshipped by his lover.

“Gorgeous,” he heard whispered behind him and fought back the smile threatening to blow his fake sleep cover.

As the sheets retreated lower down on his body, down to his knees, he felt the gentle caress follow. The feather light touches roamed his sleep-warm skin from hips to knees, tickling him lightly as they went. Arthur’s hands were sure, never faltering, and his touch was beginning to deepen using a little more pressure. His hands roamed freely, but gradually began to focus on his buttocks. Arthur’s attentions weren’t lewd or lascivious; he was simply stroking the fine white skin, allowing his fingertips to linger now and then on the join of his thighs or the cleft down the centre, touching the soft black hairs that disappeared out of sight there.

“Enjoying yourself?” he mumbled from the crook of his elbow.

Arthur let out a sigh, almost wistful. “I really love your bum.”

Merlin’s entire body began to shake with silent laughter. He squeaked as Arthur gave his bare rump a light slap then, offended. Peeking one eye up over his elbow, Merlin snorted. “God you’re so weird. Of course you love my bum. I let you do positively filthy things to it all the time!”

“Yes, well, I’ve done many filthy things to many other bums in the past, Merlin, and yours is by far my favourite bum of the bunch.”

 _Did he just? Oh, fuck that noise_. Merlin rolled away from him, yanking the sheets back up over his torso. “My favourite thing is when my boyfriend brings up past sexual experiences in bed.” Arthur scooted close, pressing his chest against Merlin’s back, kissing his shoulder with a chuckle. “Don’t, Arthur. It’s not funny.”

“Don’t sulk, Merlin. It’s unbecoming,” he teased, peppering the back of Merlin’s neck with little kisses. “You knew what you were getting with me, so don’t pretend you didn’t know about my past. But it’s the past, Merlin. Ancient history.”

“A pleasant history filled with pleasant experiences, yes?”

“Not all of them, no.”

“How many times did your sexual past put you in a fucking hospital, Arthur? How many times did you love someone so much you physically hurt yourself to deal with your own inadequacies?” Merlin could feel his face getting hot and a lump rising in his throat. _Don’t. Fucking. Cry_.

“Merlin.” _Don’t look at him. Don’t roll over_. “Merlin, that’s not fair to Freya, and you know it. She didn’t hurt you. You didn’t hurt you. Your depression hurt you, full stop. You have an illness, and the symptoms were dire, I’ll admit. You hid them out of fear and I understand that. You’re dealing with your depression now and haven’t hurt yourself since the accident. It's been seven years, Merlin.”

Merlin rolled onto his back, but still wouldn’t look at Arthur, chewing his bottom lip. “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt anymore. It just means I’m able to manage the pain less destructively, Arthur. I’m not cured. There’s no fix, only bandages. I take my pills and go to therapy and I haven’t thought about hurting myself in years. But Arthur, every day I still think about when I used to hurt myself. I feel a lot of anger and shame. My sexual history is just a catalogue of regret and fear.”

Arthur stared at him a while in silence, blue eyes searching his face. “What about your sexual present, Merlin?” The note of uncertainty in his voice caused him to turn and look Arthur full in the face. His brow was furrowed deeply, his mouth turned down, his eyes full of sorrow. “What about now?”

“What about now? What the hell is that even supposed to mean? Arthur, I love you. But just because being with you doesn’t cause me pain like it did with Freya and Gwaine, doesn’t mean I’m all better. You are not the solution to all of my problems, you self-important prat! Yes, sex with you is incredible and I’m so fucking lucky to have found you, but just because you’re an Alpha doesn’t mean that I no longer have a mental illness. Your body was made for mine and vice versa, all of that is true, but the pheromones you produce, and the hormonal response I experience as a result, Arthur, they’re not a magical cure for depression.

“I wasn’t depressed because I didn’t have an Alpha. I am depressed and I’m an Omega. I’m going to have depression my entire life. I will either be in a state of stability or in a state of imbalance. Forever. With my medication, and with the love and support of my friends and family, I am able to better manage times when the imbalance throws me off kilter. But those times still come, and they always will. And when they do, I cannot control the shame I feel, only my reaction to that shame. Please, don’t go thinking that giving me a healthy sex life is the answer to my problems, okay?”

He sat up abruptly, swinging his long legs over the edge of the bed to get up. He left Arthur sitting in the middle of the bed, grabbed his boxers from the floor and made his way to the loo feeling a tightness in his chest he hadn’t felt in ages. _Son of a fucking bitch_.

His hands trembled as he turned on the faucet and splashed cold water over his face, gulping handfuls of it down to soothe the anger that had been welling within him. He grabbed the small travel pill case he kept at Arthur’s from the medicine cabinet and took his daily doses, swallowing hard against the lump of emotion.

“Merlin?” Arthur called softly through the door. He reached out to the side to pull the door open, keeping his eyes fixed on the case in his other hand on the counter. Arthur padded in tentatively and leaned his hip against the counter beside him, but didn’t reach for him. “God, I’ve really cocked this up, haven’t I?” He seemed to be speaking to himself rather than addressing Merlin.

“I overreacted.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself for what just happened. I said something careless and stupid and I hurt you.” Merlin swallowed and nodded, still looking down. “And instead of immediately realizing what I’d said and apologizing, I belittled you for having the exact appropriate response for the situation.” He ran a fingertip down his arm and hooked it through his palm, Merlin’s fingers curling around it reflexively. “I love you too, idiot. I love you and I had grand plans for us today and, with one thoughtless remark, I managed to bollocks the whole thing up.”

Merlin rubbed his free hand over his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly. “Arthur, what do you want me to say?” He let out his breath with a huff.

“I want you to listen, that’s all. Come back to bed and listen, please?” _There had better be a fucking apology coming my way. And a chocolate popsicle._

He followed Arthur back to his bed and sat warily on the foot. Arthur knelt on the floor before him, sitting back on his heels, and gently laid his hands on Merlin’s knees. “Before I say anything else, I’m sorry.” _One down._

“I know that couples fight and that’s normal, and I don’t expect our relationship to be any different. But I never ever want our fights to come about because I’ve said or done something to hurt you. I want our fights to be about which terrible movie to watch on a Friday night in, or whether or not the server deserved a bigger gratuity. I want our fights to be about whose turn it is to shut out the light before bed and whose socks are whose when we fold our laundry together. I want to fight about whether or not we should legally adopt Gwaine and his fleas. I want those fights because they mean we’ll have Friday nights in together and dinners out together. It means we’ll go to bed together and do our laundry together. It means Gwaine has grown on me, and I don’t mind him being a part of my life with you because it means I get a life with you, Merlin.”

He smiled shyly down at Arthur, feeling a little lighter about the whole ordeal. Arthur rose up on his knees and slid his hands up Merlin’s thighs to wrap around his buttocks and gave a light squeeze. “When I said I really love your bum, I didn’t mean I only love doing filthy things to it, though I do.” He smirked. “Merlin, I really love your bum because it’s yours and you share it with me. It’s skinny and bony, and there’s not much to it at all. You put it on my chairs, and in my bed; you’ve sat it in my loo and in my tub. You snuggle it against me when you’re cold in bed. And I love it. God, Merlin, I feel like the luckiest man alive because I’ve got your wee bum in my life.” He pressed his torso gently between Merlin’s knees and hugged him around the waist. “I want your wee bum in my life. Always.”

Merlin looked down at Arthur then, smiling back up at him with those huge blue eyes, remorseful yet hopeful. “Clotpole,” he muttered and dropped a kiss onto his plush mouth. Wrapping his arms around Arthur’s shoulders he sighed, “Alright then. Tell me about the grand plans you had for me and my wee bum today, and I’ll consider forgiving you.”

Arthur jumped up and strode back into the bathroom, turning on the shower. “It starts with a long, hot shower with my long, hot boyfriend.” He winked at him through the open doorway. “And then, I was thinking brunch at Isolde’s and a stroll through the park for a chocolate popsicle.” _TWO DOWN! SOLD! FORGIVEN!_

He stood and slipped out of his boxers to join Arthur in the shower, sliding his hands through the water cascading over his chest, leaning in to kiss him. “Forgiven. And that all sounds like a lovely day. I accept.”

Arthur stilled, staring at Merlin for a second. “I wasn’t finished,” he whispered. His heart began to race beneath Merlin’s hands.

“Go on,” Merlin urged, arching a brow at him. Arthur nodded slightly before tipping his head back, soaking his hair. Merlin watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and tried very hard not to lean in and bite him there, waiting for him to continue.

“Then, once you’ve gorged yourself on sugar”—he smiled brightly—“a trip to my father’s jeweller, to design a pair of rings.” It was Merlin’s turn to swallow hard as Arthur laid a hand over his against his chest. “If you’ll have me, Merlin Emrys, I should like it very much if you would do me the honour of being my husband, bony wee bum and all.”

Merlin’s heart swelled, overflowing with emotion. Tears of joy filled his eyes, spilling over as they crinkled shut with his massive smile. Arthur beamed back at him and he leaned in for a sweet kiss. _OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO MARRY THE KING OF ENGLAND_. “Would that make me some sort of Duke or something, then?” Arthur frowned, confused. “When I marry you, Your Royal Pratness,” he laughed, squeezing Arthur’s hands.

“Prince Consort, I believe, would be your title. Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes, Arthur. Oh my god, it’s a yes.”

The hot water ran out long before they’d finished their celebratory shower sex, wherein Arthur spent quite a bit of time doing positively filthy things to Merlin’s bony wee bum, but Merlin wasn’t going to complain one little bit. He was on cloud nine, floating on an orgasmic high and the promise of a lifetime with Arthur Bloody Pendragon. That and a chocolate popsicle.

 

~O~

  
His appointment with Nimueh and the conversation they had had weighed heavily on his mind. It had been two days since, and he’d still not discussed it with Arthur. To be fair, he’d not asked about it, so it’s not as if Merlin was keeping secrets from him. He was simply trying to find the right circumstances to bring it up. She’d been so positive at the time that Merlin found himself struggling with his own hesitance. But then, Nimueh was merely a spectator to the show that was Merlin’s life. It was an easy thing for her to be enthusiastic about things that didn’t impact her one way or the other.

“Things are going well then, with Arthur?” she had said, smiling down at him on the exam table, one hand pressing gently to his abdomen palpating his ovaries.

“I’ll say.” He beamed up at her, offering her a view of the thin white and yellow gold band on the ring finger of his right hand. “We got engaged two months ago. The wedding is in the fall.”

Her entire countenance brightened then as she offered her congratulations. “Hop up and get dressed, then. We’re done here. I want to go over your most recent blood work results, though. Come into my office once you’re dressed.”

Merlin should have known then that something had changed, but he was so wrapped up in the warmth of sharing the news of his upcoming wedding that he missed her change of tone. Sitting across from her desk in the office he’d come to know so well over the last decade of their acquaintance, it suddenly dawned on him that something had changed. _Oh god, I’m dying_. He swallowed deeply and waited for her to break the news to him.

“Merlin, you’ve been on hormone therapy for almost twelve years, now.” He nodded, as this wasn’t news to him. “And while there are no indications yet of issues, there are risks to such prolonged exposure to the hormone inhibitors you take.” He swallowed hard, trying to suss out where this was headed. “The risks of certain cancers are magnified when hormones are taken for long periods of time; cervical cancer, ovarian cancer, uterine and breast cancers as well. As I said, there are no indications in your current blood work, but I am concerned with keeping you on the hormones for much longer.”

Merlin’s brain short circuited. “Stop the injections?”

“Yes, I think it’s time to stop the injections.”

Merlin’s brain kicked back in and went into overdrive as the possibilities and outcome of such an act swirled through his overactive imagination. He sat staring at Nimueh for ages, eyes darting about her face, not quite sure where to land. Panic started to well up within him. She came round the desk to crouch before him, taking his trembling hands in hers.

“I’ll go into heat,” he whispered feebly.

“Yes, your cycle would start again, in time, as the drugs leave your system. It could take several months, Merlin. You could wait until after your wedding if you’re worried about the withdrawal causing stress before your big day, and I could insert an IUD to prevent pregnancy.”

“But”—he swallowed—“I’ll go into heat.” The memory of the agony, the unyielding thirst, the shameful way his body begged without his consent for things he did not want washed over him, making him nauseated.

“Merlin, Arthur is an Alpha, yes? And you’re to be married. I know before when you were in heat, back then it was all so new to you, being Omega, and I understand how terrifying it was, that feeling of needing something you didn’t understand fully. You were suffering through it alone, then. Now, you’ll have Arthur. From what I understand, according to your mother’s accounts, is that he will be able to guide you through it safely.”

“We would form The Bond, though.” He felt like he was suffocating.

“I still don’t quite understand what Bonding is, but I think it’s worth it, especially when your relationship to date has been founded without it.”

“Caroline.” Merlin held her gaze firmly as he tried to explain. “It’s permanent. Finna explained it all to me last year when I was interviewing her for my research. There’s no divorce from The Bond. Only death severs it, and that leads to a life of solitude like my mother’s or madness like Uther’s. It’s a literal joining of consciousness, what is often thought of as the soul, and there is no recovery for the loss of it. I can’t ask Arthur to surrender himself to me like that. It’s too big.” He held up a hand to halt her protests. “It’s so much bigger than marriage.”

She kept his gaze and held his hands until they stilled. “You’ve enough of your last prescription for another dose, yes? Come back and see me in six months. In the meantime, talk to Arthur. It’s a conversation you need to have.”  
  
So there he was, two days later, queuing for a matinee film on a Saturday, trying to forget the conversation he couldn’t bring himself to have.  
  
“Did you want chocolates, too, for your sweet tooth, or is the giant sugary drink enough for the next two hours?”

“Prat.” He laughed. “Of course I want chocolate, too. Box of Smarties, please. And popcorn.”

“You know, Doctor Emrys,” Arthur mused and smirked at him. “You’re the least healthy doctor I know.”

“I’m a sciencey scientist, you clotpole, not an MD.” Merlin flashed his most disarming dimpled grin at him and pinched his bum before trotting off toward the theatres. “I’ll find us decent seats while you buy me a sugar plantation.”

The plot of the film wasn’t overly involved, seeing as it consisted mainly of explosions and car chases, but Merlin hadn’t been able to focus. As they walked through the park on their way home, Merlin sipping on what was left of his giant sugary drink while Arthur had the bag of popcorn remains rolled neatly under his arm — the Smarties had been demolished before the feature began — Arthur rambled on and on about his favourite parts of the film. Merlin simply smiled and nodded, with the odd, “Yeah, that was cool,” tossed in for effect.

Just as Arthur turned to ask if he was alright, a football bounced and skidded toward them. Arthur caught it deftly with his foot as a pair of young boys called out their apologies. “Alright lads, heads up!” he hollered as he booted the ball into the jumble of kids on the pitch. Merlin looked at his face, laughing, glowing, happy, and felt such love and tenderness it made his knees weak.

“Go on, Coach Artie. Play with them. My knee is bothering me. I’ll just head for those benches.” He grabbed the bag of popcorn and blew a kiss with a wink at Arthur as he trotted toward the boys with a holler.

It was a gorgeous day, the kind that held the promise of a gentle summer night to come, and the trees were filled with birdsong. Merlin sat upon a bench near the pitch and watched his prince run with the boys. For someone so mired in the business world, Arthur was a natural athlete. Before long he was leading the gang of boys in a series of drills, coaching and encouraging along the way. Merlin loved to see him like this, wild and carefree. Now and then he’d pick up the bark of Arthur’s laughter across the field, making him smile at the sound. He wanted to keep that sound forever, and it made him ache. Arthur deserved the chance to walk away, but he also deserved honesty and the choice to stay.

Once they were home and settled on either end of the sofa with their takeaway, Arthur turned sharply to Merlin and prodded his hip with a toe. Merlin gave him a startled face, brows raised questioningly. “Out with it, Merlin.”

He swallowed his mouthful of noodles with an audible gulp and fisted at the centre of his chest with a slight cough. He sheepishly peeked at Arthur through his lashes and cursed his fair complexion for the blush he could feel rising on his cheeks. “Come on, then. You’ve been quiet for days, and today you’ve had this sort of silent mysterious thing going on, and I’ve had enough of waiting. What is it?”

He chewed at his lips, gathering his thoughts and courage, unsure of how to start. “Arthur, do you want children?” Blond brows disappeared beneath his fringe and he pouted slightly, indicating he’d not expected that. “Watching you today at the park, and even with Morgana and Leon’s boys, I just wonder.”

Arthur carefully placed his dish on the coffee table and shifted his body to face Merlin before answering. “Merlin, I love children. But I love you more than anything else in this world. I love being an uncle to Morg’s boys, just like you do to Will and Freya’s boys. We have children in our lives. It’s one of the things that I just sort of accept about my choice to marry a man, you know?”

Merlin swallowed. “But Arthur, you know I’m not just any man. If you wanted children, we wouldn’t have to adopt or find a surrogate or anything. As your future spouse I’m asking you, do you want children?”

Arthur scooted forward to take Merlin’s dish from him and hold his hands. “What’s going on? What is this really about?”

Merlin lowered his eyes, staring at their hands intertwined between them, engagement bands shining like beacons of love and hope. He let out a shuddered breath and whispered, “I’ve been on the hormones too long. Caroline says I need to stop my injections for health reasons.”

Arthur was gobsmacked. “You’ve been sitting on this for two days? Merlin, you idiot, no wonder you’ve been a distant mess. Are you okay?” He tipped Merlin’s chin up to look into his eyes.

“I’m terrified,” he admitted, a tear rolling down his face into the corner of his mouth. Arthur kissed him there, kissing away the salty distress, and pulled him to his chest. He began stroking his sides in long, firm, and comforting motions.

“Tell me.”

“My heat will come back, and if that doesn’t scare you, ask Percival about it. He’s been witness to every full cycle I’ve ever had, he’d assure you it’s not a matter to be taken lightly. I go mad with it, really lose my mind. I’m unable to control myself, in any way. I scream and cry and beg and I hate myself through it all.”

“Hate yourself, why?”

“I don’t know, Arthur. It’s been years. I guess it’s the shame. I’m ashamed of my inability to control myself. Of what I beg and cry for.” Merlin buried his face against Arthur’s shoulder and sniffed. “Though, I suppose now that seems sort of silly, considering.”

“What did you beg for?”

Merlin groaned. “I beg to be fucked, Arthur, like any other bitch in heat, howling for a screw. God, my poor mother used to have to leave, unable to listen to her skinny fifteen year old son beg any male who walked through the door for a good hard fuck. Percival took the brunt of it — like a champ I should add. I hated it because it’s not what I wanted and it terrified me that my body betrayed me like that. All I wanted was a girlfriend, round and soft and sweet. But my heat came on and I’d go barking mad for a big fat cock. Are you starting to understand why I started cutting myself yet?” Arthur said nothing, but kept holding him, stroking his back as he spoke.

“Then there’s the physical pain. It’s pure agony, Arthur.” He hiccupped a sob against his shoulder. “My entire body burns like it’s on fire, and my muscles feel like I’ve been running forever and suddenly stopped. I pass out from extreme exhaustion after awhile. Then there are cramps and spasms, like my guts are filled with hot coals. It’s an agony that has only one cure, and it’s something I can’t ask of you without informing you of the side effects.” He pushed himself back to look at Arthur’s face, drawn with concern, eyes shimmering with sympathy.

“So inform me, love.”

“You’d need to mate with me, to claim me as yours,” he sobbed.

Arthur gave him a little smile, then. “Idiot.” He pulled him into another hug, rubbing at the tension between his shoulders with strong hands. “How am I not already your mate? I’m your Alpha. You’re my Omega. You’re wearing the first of two of my rings, Merlin. Have I not already claimed you?”

Merlin buried his face in the warm crook of Arthur’s neck and groaned lowly. He pushed himself away again and stood up, pacing away from Arthur. “It’s not that simple, Arthur. It’ll be something you’ll have no control over once my heat starts, because you’ll experience something similar called a rut when you pick up my scent — you’ll have a one track mind like mine. While I’m busy begging for it, you’ll be busy trying to take it, come hell or high water. It's graphic, messy. Bloody even. But once we’ve mated, properly mated, Arthur”—he turned to face him—“during a heat and rut, we can never be separated again. It’s called The Bond.”

“Like a physical marriage, Merlin? Because I’m already signed on for the legal part.” He smiled and stood to close the distance between them again. Merlin stalked away before he could.

“Your parents had The Bond, Arthur. And your mother’s death left your father a shell of a human because The Bond was broken. Same goes for my parents. My mother has never been able to remarry, never have another child, because The Bond was taken from her the day my father died. She told me it’s like losing half of your soul, Arthur!” He had been pacing furiously around the living room and stopped then, facing his fiancé. “Are you honestly ready to give me half of your soul, forever?” Arthur blinked slowly as he absorbed the information. Suddenly his face looked pained. _This is it. He’s leaving_. Merlin braced for the pain of rejection.

“Are you not ready to give me half of yours in return?” Arthur whispered, the tears in his eyes falling freely now.

Merlin fell to his knees, crushed and humbled by the question. He sobbed openly, his face contorted with pain and relief. “My god, Arthur.” He turned his eyes to the ceiling and cried out, “What on earth have I done to deserve a man like you?”

Arthur dropped to his knees, pulling Merlin into a kiss, hard and bruising, fuelled by their passion for one another. “Merlin Emrys, I love you. I’ve already asked you to be my husband, but now”—he brushed the tears away from Merlin’s cheekbones with his thumbs—“I’m going to ask you to be my mate, my Omega. I want to share The Bond with you. Will you share The Bond with me?”

“There could be babies,” he whispered with a small smile on his lips, his heart lightened to the point of buoyancy.

“There will be beautiful babies, with their daddy’s jet black hair, huge blue eyes and dimpled smiles.” Arthur kissed Merlin again, tenderly this time. They held one another for awhile, letting their tears, now turned joyful, abate. Arthur sat back on his heels and ran his fingers lovingly over Merlin’s features. “Come,” he said. “Dinner can wait. I want you in my bed. I want you. Forever.”

Their lovemaking was slow and thoughtful, punctuated with tender kisses and murmurs of adoration, hands clasped together, limbs intertwined, slick with sweat. Merlin came with a tremor and Arthur’s name on his lips, and Arthur held him through it, keeping him safe as he came undone, telling him he’d do this forever.

 

~O~

 

“Tell me again about the Emrys Prophecy.”

“Arthur, you were there. You heard what Finna said.” It was past midnight, and Merlin was finally slipping into a sweet slumber when Arthur spoke. He loved the sound of his voice rumbling in his ear and wanted more. “You tell it to me.”

“The First Emrys Omega — previously thought to be a girl, but who is so clearly you, my love — will save the Dragon Anam Nation.”

Merlin sniffed and rubbed his cheek against Arthur’s shoulder. “I’m trying to, at least.”

“Modern medicine has given us a place on the Endangered Species list, for sure. But you’ve mapped the genes, found others like us, and are working on a way to help us all.”

“Mm?” Merlin was sleepy and unsure of why Arthur needed to talk about this now.

“What if all of the answers are hidden within The Bond? What if you can’t unlock these mysteries without it? The second half of the prophecy always made me uneasy, but I think I’m starting to understand my role.”

“What, the whole ‘the Pendragon heir will guide the journey’ part?”

“Well, what do I know about any of this? Nothing. Except, that I love you and I want to help. I’m glad the funds from the PenTech grant have given you the ability to research freely, but that’s not really guiding anything, is it? No. I’m just the bankroll.” He shifted slightly to look Merlin in the eyes before continuing. “What if The Bond allows us to understand things differently? What if the Pendragon heir isn’t even me? What if it’s one of our children?”

“That’s an idea.” Merlin chewed his lips, willing his thought hamsters to stay sleeping — he was too tired to brainstorm.

Arthur kissed his forehead and pulled him close to his chest. “We will do this together, love. I promise. We are going to save them all.”

 

  
~O~

 

Arthur had slept restlessly — back in his old room at his father's house — anxious for the big day ahead. The Emrys-Pendragon wedding.

Merlin had stayed at their modest house for the night and would be getting ready there. Arthur smiled as he thought of him, wondering as he buttoned his shirt if Merlin was buttoning his, too. He was glad Gwaine had offered to stay the night with him. He'd be a big help in keeping Merlin's nerves under control and would make sure he left the house on time and with both shoes on.

As he dressed and tidied his hair, he reflected on his relationship with Merlin. Their beginning had been emotional and often awkward, but really, that was Merlin — emotional and awkward. Arthur laughed quietly to himself at the thought.

But Merlin was also smart and funny and so wholly devoted to his research, friends, and family. Arthur was overwhelmed to have become a part of Merlin's world. A world in which Merlin had initially felt trapped.

Being an Omega had consumed him for so long. He bore the marks of his shackles, sliced into his skin. Arthur couldn't imagine what it was like for Merlin to be so afraid, so pained. He had never truly seen that side of him, only the ghost of it that lived in his memories.

As he laced his shoes, freshly polished and buffed, Arthur smiled again, thinking how truly free Merlin had become over the years. And today, he marvelled, would be the last day of that old Merlin. His last injection — the last strand of the tether to that terrified boy in the past — would have been done by now. He would walk down the aisle a confidently free Omega.  
  
The September wedding that Arthur had planned wasn’t quite the barefoot on a beach dream Merlin had at Freya and Will’s wedding, but it was a gorgeous affair held in the Pendragon estate gardens.

Morgana had taken over the planning, despairing that her brother was actually a moron when it came to such things. Uther had protested until Morgana threatened to sell the estate out from under him. “You know I can, Father, so shut up, show up, and smile,” she had purred at him through her terrifying fangs. The landscapers had kept the gardens meticulously manicured and blooming, but she added massive displays in decorative urns along the pathways and an archway covered in white blossoms. A string quartet provided classical renditions of Merlin and Arthur’s favourite songs by The Cure as the guests found their seats.

The front rows were occupied by family, Uther and Morgana and her children to the right, Hunith and Gaius to the left with Freya and her children. Gwaine had been asked to photograph the event and was busily snapping candid shots of guests as they arrived. Will and Leon were happily ushering guests to their seats while Merlin and Arthur waited in the house for their moment to appear.  
  
They were dressed for garden formal, light dress pants, broadcloth button-down shirts in complimentary colours with coordinating ties, and smart brown wingtip oxfords. Merlin had let his facial hair come in the way that Arthur loved, and he pinked at the tips of his ears when he found Arthur staring.

They’d decided to forego the image of one of them as the blushing bride walking down the aisle toward the other, and agreed they would arrive together for the ceremony, because, as Merlin had argued, he was not a girl.

Pausing just inside the double doors from the salon to the garden, Arthur held his hand out for Merlin’s. “You ready?” he asked quietly. Merlin beamed at him with a face-splitting grin that dissolved any and all anxiety Arthur was experiencing.

“I was born ready,” he suddenly deadpanned, causing Arthur to toss his head back and laugh heartily. The crowd turned around at the sound and the pair advanced toward their future, hand in hand and laughing.

The service was fairly short, officiated by Pendragon family friend Geoffrey Monmouth, a city official. The vows had been punctuated with laughs between moments of tenderness. The rings were a matching set, wide bands of white gold enamelled with subtle dragon scales. Their kiss had been chaste, but Gwaine had whistled loudly anyway, and the crowd had erupted in applause for the newlyweds.

The champagne began to flow and guests were treated to cocktails in the garden while the wedding party disappeared to a secluded nook of the property for more formal photos. Morgana had set up a small game of croquet for the photos and Gwaine snapped some gorgeous shots of the six of them together, Will and Freya for Merlin, and Leon and Morgana for Arthur. Once the photos were done, they stayed hidden together for an intimate moment before joining the festivities.

“Morgana, thank you. Today has been perfect.” Merlin kissed her cheek.

“Of course it has, darling. I didn’t let Arthur get involved,” she crooned, preening her sleek black hair hanging loose over her shoulder.

Arthur rolled his eyes dramatically as the others all smirked. “Leon, mate, I don’t know how you put up with her.”

“Easy,” he laughed, “I’m afraid of her.” Morgana flashed a wicked smile at her husband over her shoulder, and he shivered in mock fear. The gang burst out into easy laughter and started a slow walk back toward the terrace.

Freya hooked her tiny arm through Arthur’s and smiled up at him happily. She slowed her pace, holding him back with her to let the others get just out of earshot. He turned his eyes to hers, inquisitive.

“Arthur.” She bit her bottom lip slightly, and he could feel himself being drawn into the dark brown depths of her eyes. He laid a hand over hers where it rested in the crook of his elbow and waited for her to continue. “Just,” she sighed, “give him everything Gwaine and I couldn’t. He will give endlessly, that’s just who he is, and”—she closed her eyes softly—“if you’re not careful, if you’re not watching him, Arthur”—she opened them again, pleading—“he’ll give himself away until there’s nothing left.” Her voice cracked, and Arthur’s heart tightened for the memories he knew must be flashing through her mind. “You have to be able to give him back what he gives you in return. Don’t let him fill your cup without checking to see if his is empty.”

Arthur pulled her into a tight hug, letting the weight of her words anchor him. “Thank you, Freya.”

 

~O~

 

By the time they drove away from the estate, waving their farewells to their loved ones, Merlin was half dead with exhaustion. “I need a nap,” he yawned as he curled his body into the plush seat of Uther’s Bentley, loaned to them for their getaway car, and smiled at his husband.

“I plan to have you horizontal”—Arthur laughed—“but if you fall asleep, I want an annulment.” Merlin poked his tongue out at him and smiled.

The day had been warm and cloudless, absolutely perfect. They drove along the country road in companionable silence for a while, ties whipping around the gear shift between them where Merlin had fastened them once they got comfortable to drive off.

“God.” Merlin stretched out his long arms, enjoying the convertible, and filled his lungs with the pleasant fall air. “That all actually happened, right?”

“I do believe we are now officially Doctor and Mister Emrys-Pendragon, my sciencey scientist, which I’m certain revokes your previous additionally held title of super straight.”

“Funny, you’ve kept yours, though.” Arthur glanced sideways at him and arched a brow. “You’re still Prince Pratness.”

“Idiot.”

Merlin flashed him a cheeky grin. “Yep. But I’m your idiot now, dollophead.”  
  
The honeymoon suite of the hotel was larger than the flat he’d shared with Gwaine before he and Arthur bought their house, and Merlin had to remind himself he wasn’t a child and that running around shouting “Look at this!” whilst pointing at all of the fancy amenities would be unattractive.

He stood in the middle of the large suite, turning slowly, mentally yelling, _Look at this!!_ until Arthur laughed at him, obviously reading his mind.

“Shut up.” He laughed and he lunged to bounce gleefully on the bed like a giant five year old. Arthur dropped their bags on the floor and joined him, barking with laughter.

A sharp rap on the door caused them to leap from the bed like children caught being naughty and dissolve in giggles. Merlin answered the door with sweaty flushed cheeks and his hair an unruly mess. The false air of calm indifference on his face made the young bellhop on the other side of the door blush. Arthur had slumped on the floor next to the bed and stood abruptly as the young man wheeled a cart into the room. “Your champagne and dessert, sirs, courtesy of the hotel. Congratulations on your nuptials, Misters Emrys-Pendragon.”

Merlin made an exaggerated face at Arthur from behind the young man’s back as he fished into his wallet to tip him. Clearing his throat and trying to ignore his husband’s face, Arthur said, “Thank you, fine sir. Now, I’m sure you’ll see to it personally that we are not disturbed further. We have a brunch reservation for eleven o’clock tomorrow morning and would appreciate a wake-up call at ten. Other than that, we’re not here.” He slipped a note into the man’s hand as he shook it and gave him a wink.

“Of course, sir.” He nodded as he closed the door behind him.

Arthur moved to the tray to uncover the platter of sweets and berries, and Merlin pressed against his back, placing his hand over Arthur’s. “Leave it,” he breathed into his ear. He ran his hands down Arthur’s sides and slipped them into the pockets of his trousers, gently squeezing him through the thin fabric. “I’ve not worked up an appetite just yet.” He licked a hot stripe up the side of his neck, from collar to earlobe.

Arthur let his head hang forward and shivered slightly when Merlin withdrew his hands to work at the buttons of his shirt and kissed the back of his neck as he eased them open. Once he had freed him of the shirt and tossed it casually over the back of a chair, he ran his hands up his belly and chest beneath his undershirt, lifting it over his head, and let it tumble to the ground. “Turn,” he ordered, low and firm.

When Arthur turned around, Merlin was pleased to see the effect his attention was having on him. His cheeks and throat were flushed, his eyelids heavy, lips parted and his breath quivering. It took his breath away. “God, Arthur,” he breathed before taking his bottom lip between his own and sucking it slightly. “I want”—he panted, gripping Arthur’s hips—“I want you.”

Arthur pushed his hips forward into Merlin’s grip and slipped his tongue into his opened lips. They kissed, wet and filthy, moaning into one another’s mouths and pushing their hips together. Arthur dragged his teeth along Merlin’s throat and grabbed his arse with both hands. “Bed,” he growled when Merlin let out a throaty moan.

“Wait, Arthur.” He wasn’t waiting; he was busily tearing at the buttons of Merlin’s shirt and yanking the tail of it out of his trousers. “Arthur, stop.” He paused, flushed and wanting, but waiting for whatever it was Merlin needed to say. “Just,” he started, stepping back to undo his own buttons. “I thought tonight, maybe...” He looked into Arthur’s huge blue eyes, burning with desire. “It’s our wedding night. I want to share with you the last piece of me, of my virginity”—he blushed—“but that means asking you to share yours with me, too.”

Confusion flashed briefly over Arthur’s face and when it dawned on him what Merlin was asking, he swallowed hard and frowned slightly. Before he could speak Merlin jumped back in.

“I’m asking, Arthur, not demanding. I know it’s something that you’re unsure of, maybe uncomfortable with, but you can say no. I don’t expect this, just know that I want to make you feel as good as you make me.”

“Merlin, I—” he started, stepping back into his space now that he’d rid himself of his shirts as well. “I don’t know.” He traced his fingertips lightly over the soft black hairs of Merlin’s chest and up his throat. Cupping his palms over his jaw and kissing him softly, Arthur sighed. “It’s a lot to ask.”

Merlin pulled him into a full hug, stroking his muscular back with strong hands as Arthur buried his nose in the crook of his neck. “I love you. I trust you. I never want to hurt you. It’s okay,” he reassured him, kissing the golden shoulder before him, tickling Arthur’s sensitive skin with his soft beard. “Forget I asked and take me to bed. I want everything you’re able to give me, and nothing that you’re not.” He started walking backward, pulling Arthur with him towards the large bed, rumpled from their childlike enthusiasm mere moments before, undoing his belt as he went.

“I didn’t say no, idiot.” He smiled down at Merlin after pushing him back onto his elbows on the bed and pulled his trousers and pants down over his hips in one go, flinging them over his shoulder. He bent to kiss his thighs as he undid his own trousers and stepped out of them before crawling over Merlin to straddle his legs. “I said it’s a lot to ask.” Merlin’s heart fluttered happily as Arthur leaned forward and kissed him deeply, rocking his hips against his groin. He pulled back just enough to focus on Merlin’s face without going cross-eyed. “I love you. I trust you,” he echoed. “I couldn’t give this part of myself to anyone after I almost had it stolen, but it brings me pleasure that I can give you something that will be yours alone. You gave me every one of your true firsts, Merlin, and I’ve only this one left to give to you. I want you to have it.” He rolled them over, settling Merlin between his open thighs and held him close for a languid kiss.

“Are you sure?” Merlin asked, needing to hear him say it again. Arthur shifted his body, pulling them both closer to the centre of the bed. He hooked his ankles together behind Merlin’s waist and pulled him down tight against his body. He grunted slightly and Merlin moaned as they rocked their cocks together.

“Yeah, I am. I want you to fuck me, Merlin. Just, remember.” He nudged him back to make full eye contact. “Green, yellow, red.” He smiled warmly then and crawled out from under Arthur and set about digging through their luggage for lube before returning to him on the massive bed.

Merlin spent ages kissing him, touching him everywhere but where he’d said he wanted to, driving Arthur mad with anticipation and desire. He revelled in the hitches of his breath and the small sounds of pleasure and pleading tumbling from Arthur’s lips. He reached down, trailing his fingertips along the crease of his thigh, and gently touched the sensitive skin between Arthur’s buttocks. He tensed instantly and let out the same sound of warning, the threatening growl, he’d given Merlin months before when he’d discovered that Arthur had never been touched like this.

“Shh, love. I’ve got you,” he soothed him, not retreating. He watched Arthur’s muscles clench and bunch as he fought to stay still, willing himself to relax. Wrapping his free hand around Arthur’s thigh, he eased his leg back, holding him while he reached for the bottle of lube he’d dropped onto the bedspread earlier. Arthur’s eyes tracked his every movement but his jaw was clenched tight and his breath burst from his nostrils in sharp puffs.

He coated the fingers of his right hand with the slippery liquid and let a small stream of it run over the head of Arthur’s cock, dribbling it down over his shaft and balls and onto his spread arse. He massaged him thoroughly, pulling gently on his sac, swirling his palm over the tip of his penis before closing his long fingers around it and giving it a pull. The diversion of his attentions worked to ease Arthur’s tension, and his eyes rolled back into his skull as he lazily lifted his hips, thrusting gently into Merlin’s hand.

“Arthur?” he asked, stilling his hand. “Arthur, look at me.” When he reopened his eyes, pupils blown wide open, Merlin made sure he spoke clearly and confidently. “I’m going to touch you again, Arthur. And I want you to let me.” He stroked his left hand over Arthur’s thigh again, feeling for tension.

“Yes,” he breathed, closing his eyes again in wait.

Merlin pressed the pads of his fingers against Arthur’s opening gently, applying just enough pressure to be felt but not penetrate him. Again Arthur let out an involuntary growl, but Merlin felt his muscles relax shortly after they’d tensed again. He circled his fingertips slowly, soothing the ring of muscles, massaging away the fear. Arthur’s face was drawn as if he were in a waking nightmare, brow furrowed, thin sheen of sweat on his upper lip. “You’re doing so well, love,” Merlin encouraged.

When he pressed a fingertip firmly into the tight ring of muscle, Arthur jumped with a shout, startling them both. “I don’t know Merlin. I can’t do this. Red. It's a red.” He looked so frightened Merlin just wanted to hold him then, keep him safe.

“It’s alright, Arthur.” He moved up to lie beside him, circling his chest with his long arms. “It’s okay.” Arthur rolled toward him burying his face against Merlin’s throat and pulling him close against his body.

“It shouldn’t be this stressful, right?”

Merlin stroked Arthur’s back and kissed his forehead. “No, but it’s okay that it is.” They lay together in silence for a while, just enjoying the comfort of one another’s presence. “Arthur?” he wondered aloud. “What if it’s because you’re an Alpha? You’re not made for sex that way.” There was a grumpy noise of disagreement. “No really, you clotpole. What if, just like me, you’re only hardwired for sex one way? Sure, you’re biologically able to reproduce with Beta women and Omegas, but you’ve had successful physical relationships with men, too, but always as the dominant partner.” Arthur looked up at him through his lashes and Merlin barrelled through. “I know, I know, exes in bed, and on our wedding night, too. I’m sorry. But what if that’s right? It might be worth investigating at another time.” His eyes darted about as the wheels turned in his mind, planning ways to test the theory.

“Ugh,” Arthur grunted. “Put your brain away, Science Boy, you’ll set off the smoke alarm.” He rolled over top of Merlin, caging him in with his thick arms. “It’s our wedding night, and I’ve heard rumours that there’s no thinking allowed on wedding nights, just shagging. So.” He nudged Merlin’s legs apart with his knee, settling himself in the cradle of his hips. “Shut up, and let’s shag.”

Merlin’s eyes sparkled with amusement and anticipation, and he grinned happily. “Yes, Sire.”  
  
Nearing four in the morning, Merlin sat up abruptly. “I have a theory!” Arthur groaned. “No, really. Wake up, Arthur.”

“Merlin, stop theorizing about my arse and go back to sleep.” Arthur rolled over and yanked the sheets with him.

“I need to know things, though, first. Things I don’t like talking about, but here we are.”

“Merlin,” Arthur warned, “If you’re about to ask me about past lovers, for the second time on our wedding night, I’m going to eviscerate you.”

“Okay, let’s talk about me, then.”

“But you love talking about you. You’re your favourite subject.” Arthur rolled onto his back and smirked at Merlin.

“Clotpole.”

“I’m not going to get to sleep until we’ve hashed this out, am I?”

“Well, if I can’t sleep, you shouldn’t get to either.”

“You’re a monster. I don’t know if I should be flattered or horrified that this keeps you up at night.” He sat up, rubbed his face and settled his elbows on his knees. “Okay, what about you?”

Merlin wiggled his hips as he turned to face Arthur, crossing his long legs between them. “I always thought, because I have no other frame of reference for this, that this was an anxiety based thing.” He paused there, chewing his bottom lip. “But now I wonder, what if it’s actually an Omega thing?”

Arthur closed his eyes and exhaled slowly through his nose. “What ‘thing’?”

“Right, well. You know how when we’re in bed, shagging, specifically”—he waggled his brows making Arthur smile in spite of his grumpy mood—“I mean, everything you do to me is incredible, and I can come from the littlest things.” He leaned forward and put his hand on Arthur’s, enjoying the sight of their shining wedding bands in the darkened room. “But we both know that I never fully let go, I mean, really get lost in what we are doing, unless you’re holding me.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed. “Holding you? Like how?”

“Like, how when you’re on top, you wrap my whole body up in yours. And when I’m on top, you sit up and wrap your arms around my body and squeeze.” Merlin could see Arthur’s mind tracking back over the two years of their relationship, considering. He pressed on, “You always wrap your arms around my chest, no matter how we are doing it. Even when you’re giving me head, Arthur, my best orgasms are when you’re either holding me down, or when we both do it, you know, sixty nine, and you use your full body weight on me. It’s like I don’t feel right unless you’re grounding me, and I don’t truly let go. Like the difference between me chasing after an orgasm to grab it and having one chase me down and tackle me. Does that even make sense?”

“Huh.” He seemed to be unaware of the habit. “I guess so, yeah.”

“So what I wondered, about your previous experience, is that something you just do in bed, to everyone, or do you do that because your body tells you to do that for me?”

Arthur dropped his head back thinking while he stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know, love. I didn’t even know I did that. But you like it? I’m not hurting you or making you feel trapped?”

He scooped Arthur’s hand into his, lacing their fingers. “I just said it’s the opposite of that, didn’t I? I don’t feel like I can let go without it. Arthur, when you hold me like that, or press my body down with yours, it makes me feel more safe and loved than anything else you do. I think it’s because I feel so safe in your arms that my mind finally disconnects from my body and I just give myself over to pleasure.” He leaned in and kissed him, sweet and soft.

“Okay, so.” Arthur shifted on the bed, pulling Merlin’s legs over his so he was fully facing him. “Your theory, then, is that I freak out like that because I need to be held down to feel safe enough?”

“Well no, actually. My theory is that it goes against every fibre of your biology to surrender yourself like I do. I need it, but I’m Omega. Maybe, in order to let yourself go and enjoy it, you need to be fully in control. What if the reason you panic is because I’m trying to lead, so to speak?”

“Reasonable theory. How do we test it? What are you proposing?” He pulled Merlin close, looping his arms behind his back, and touched his forehead with his own.

“You need to lead, obviously. You would be in full control, always. I’ll do what you ask, nothing more, nothing less. You could even be on top. You control everything that way. Or, if you needed more time, try touching yourself when you’re fully relaxed. Actually, if you can’t tolerate self-exploration, you’ll never be able to let me do it. Start there.”

He pulled his face away sharply, eyes wide. “What, now?”

Merlin chuckled and pulled his husband in for a kiss. “No, not now. And not until you’re mentally ready to try. If you rush or push yourself, it’ll never happen.” Merlin moved away from Arthur, satisfied that he’d thought this through, untangling their legs so he could lie down again. “Now, stop thinking and go to sleep, Arthur. It’s the middle of the night, for Pete’s sake. Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Arthur growled and pounced on top of him, kissing the giggle right out of Merlin’s mouth. “You don’t get to wake me up to talk about holding you down and making you come without me holding you down and making you come, Merlin. It’s the law. I should know, I’m the King, remember?”

Merlin let out a pleased shiver, still chuckling to himself. “Then you had better hold me down and make me come, Sire.”

 

**January 2015**

  
  
Considering it had been over a year since the wedding with no sign whatsoever of his heat returning, despite repeated visits to Nimueh for reassurance that all was well with his reproductive organs and months of anxiety and stress about it all, Merlin was caught completely off guard the day his body had finally decided it was time.

He had a healthy young couple waiting for him in his office that had been referred to him for genetic screening when their fertility treatments had failed repeatedly. He stopped in the kitchenette for a drink before joining them, suddenly desperately thirsty. _It’s too dry in here. I’ve got to check the thermostat settings_.

Downing a full glass and refilling it to take with him, he entered his office with a cheery smile. “Mr and Mrs Edward, good morning,” he greeted them as he passed them to open his office window. As the cold damp air flooded suddenly into the room, he gulped it in, filling his lungs in great gasps. “I’m so sorry for the heat in here. The furnace appears to be on overdrive,” he said, stripping off his lab coat as he moved to sit across from the Edwards.

Pulling her jacket around her shoulders Mrs. Edward asked cautiously, “Doctor Emrys, are you alright? You look flushed. Fevered, maybe?” But Merlin didn’t hear her at all. He felt suddenly as if he was swimming in his own sweat. He was lightheaded and his vision blurred slightly.

“I’m so sorry, I have to go,” was all he mumbled as he left the office and ran for the loo. Switching on the light he gripped the basin and looked in the mirror. _Fuck_. He was shining in a film of sweat, flushed cheeks and red lips, but worst of all were his eyes — bloodshot red and with pupils blown wide open. He frantically splashed cold water over his face and throat, trying and failing to hide the flush. He flung the door open and hollered, “FREYA!” ignoring Mr and Mrs Edward now standing awkwardly outside of his office door, staring at him with concern.

“Merlin, what’s happened?” Freya appeared within seconds, having dropped her paperwork. She rushed to him, reaching to feel his face but he jerked away from her viciously with a hiss.

“Don’t touch me,” he growled. “I need to go home. Take me home.” He fumbled in his pocket for his phone, sweaty hands causing him to struggle with the touch screen, cursing under his breath at it.

“Merlin, you’re scaring me.” Freya inched closer but heeded his warning not to touch. “I’m so sorry, you’ll have to reschedule with Doctor Emrys once he’s well,” she said to the Edwards, as they edged past them toward the exit. “What’s happening,” she hissed once they were alone.

Merlin’s sweaty hands caused him to drop his phone, and he kicked at it in frustration. “Freya, call Arthur. It’s urgent. And take me home.” He stumbled toward his office to get his keys and grab his coat. “Please, Frey. I can’t do this alone.”

  
~O~

  
By the time she’d seen him settled in the front seat of her car, she’d called Arthur and explained that Merlin was quite ill with a high fever, causing Arthur to swear into the phone and hang up on her, and locked up the lab for the day, switching the phones to their after-hours line.

Merlin was shivering and nearly non-responsive by the time she pulled into the lane of his home with Arthur. She took his keys and ran ahead to open the door. She was shocked to see him stripping off his shirt as he stumbled toward the house. “Merlin! It’s January, for Pete’s sake! You’re already ill, you’ll catch your death out here.” She urged him into the house, remembering not to touch him as she did so.

Once inside, he collapsed onto the carpet of the living room and wailed in agony at the sensation on his skin. Frantic, Freya tried calling Arthur again but simply got his voicemail. “Shit, he’s on the bloody tube,” she muttered, scrolling through his contacts. “Merlin, honey?” Trying to get his attention she snapped her fingers before his unfocused eyes. “Is this a Call Gwaine Emergency or a Call Mum Emergency?” Making an executive decision, she called Gwaine.

A quick description of his symptoms and Gwaine had it figured out. “Shit. He’s gone into heat, by the sounds of it. He told me he’d stopped his injections ages ago. How long until Arthur gets there, do you think?”

“He didn’t take the car today. He’s at the mercy of the train schedule. If he left the office within five minutes of my call, he’s got another half an hour before he’s here.” She paced nervously, watching Merlin panting on the floor, trying to do something to relieve the pain but failing. “I just don’t know how to help him, Gwaine. Should I call his mother?”

Minutes later she had Hunith on the line. “Right, love, it’s a good thing you’re there. He’ll howl if you touch him, but do your best to drag him up to the bedroom. I’ll stay on the line and direct you once you’re up there.”

Freya managed, trying to block out the sounds of anguish coming from Merlin, and pushed him down so he was sitting on the bed, swaying dangerously. “Right, now, look in the closet on the top shelf. He has a grey blanket, a sort of silky feeling fuzzy blanket, very soft.”

“Got it.”

“He’s already shirtless?”

“Yes.”

“Wrap it around his shoulders, tightly. Lie him down if you can then, and tuck it under him. And if he’ll let you, and you’re not uncomfortable to do it, Freya, get him as undressed as possible. Stop at your comfort level, but his clothing feels like it’s burning him right now.”

“I’ll put you down, but don’t hang up, okay?” She dropped the phone onto the bedside table and switched it to speaker. “I’ve got you on speaker, Hunith. Talk to him.”

Freya listened to how his whimpers and moans changed slightly at the sound of his mother’s voice while she worked at unlacing his shoes and undressing him. As she pulled his trousers down over his hips she stopped with a flinch as the sight of his scars sent a wave of nausea over her. Once she had him down to his cotton underpants she hesitated. “Now what, Hunith?”

“He sounds like he’s settling somewhat, yes? Sleepy?”

“His eyes have been closed since I tucked the blanket around him, and his breathing is less laboured. Is he asleep?”

“No, he won’t sleep until Arthur gets there. And he may have a moment of hysteria before he does and run about a bit panicked. So Freya”—she sounded suddenly stern, no longer soothing her son or issuing directions. What came next was an order—“Hide the knives.”

Grabbing the phone she fled to the kitchen. “Where should I put them?” she asked, grabbing the knife block and opening the drawers to find other various knives and kitchen blades.

“Out of the house, Freya. Take them with you, if you can.” She put them all into a large bakeware dish to contain them and ran them out to her car, locking them in the boot. Hearing Freya return through the front door, Hunith continued, “How long now before you expect Arthur?”

Glancing at the clock on the microwave, she calculated. “About ten minutes, I think. I should stay until he gets here, yes?”

“Yes, stay until Arthur has picked up his scent. I know that makes no sense to you now, love, but you’ll see it happen. Everything about Arthur will change in an instant. And stay out of his way. He could accidentally hurt you if you get between them. Once Arthur arrives, run to Tesco for them. I can give you a list of what to buy. Arthur will pay you back, so don’t worry. If you’re gone about an hour, you’ll be safe to enter the house; don’t be longer than two hours, though, or Merlin will be awake. You don’t want to be in the house when he’s awake.”

Freya startled when she caught sight of Merlin then, standing at the bottom of the stairs, naked and wrapped in the grey blanket. “Where’s Arthur?” he croaked. Blinking slowly and lazily licking his lips he continued, “I need him, Kitten.”

“He’s coming Merlin, on his way, love. Are you thirsty? Let me get you a glass of water.”

“ARTHUR?” he bellowed causing her to jump. He started pacing, dripping sweat onto the tiles. “I need him, oh god, oh god, Arthur, Arthur, I need him.” Hunith and Freya shushed him gently trying to settle his nerves.

When the front door finally opened and she heard Arthur call out, “Freya, where is he?” with a voice so full of concern and love, she had to remind herself not to step between him and Merlin, still pacing frantically. She stood to the side, gripping the countertop for support, and watched as Merlin’s pacing stopped and everything about Arthur changed.

His face went from pinched with concern, pale and frantic, to wide eyes, clenched jaw, flushed cheeks and fierce determination within seconds. “Oh god,” she whispered, unable to stop herself. She was invisible to them both, a silent witness to their instincts.

“Merlin,” Arthur’s voice came out of him deep and gravelly. Merlin’s legs gave way, and he slumped to his knees before Arthur, gazing up at him with a look of adoration and relief.

“I need you.”

Arthur needed no further instruction. He scooped Merlin into his arms like a child and carried him up the stairs. Rather than scream and howl in pain at the touch as he had before, Merlin melted into the embrace, sighing contentedly.

“Freya?” Hunith’s voice startled her. “If they’ve gone upstairs, Arthur will put him to bed and won’t leave him again. You’ve got less than two hours to fill their house with enough food and water to get them through this. Hang up and go.”

  
~O~

  
Merlin dozed happily against Arthur’s bare chest, his skin cooling everywhere they touched. His hair was damp and curled wildly, but the fever had cooled with Arthur’s presence.

His pleasant dreams were abruptly interrupted when he felt the first pulse radiate through his guts. He tried to roll into himself, drawing his knees up to his chest. He began to pant once again, breathing through the throbbing pain in his belly.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Arthur reassured him, stroking over his ribcage. “What do you need?”

“Touch me,” he whispered. “Make it stop.” He could see through hazy eyes, glazed with lust, as Arthur stood up to shed the remainder of his clothing. He rolled onto his back, knees falling apart wantonly. “Arthur,” he begged, his name coming out in ragged puffs with each breath.

“Shush, love, I’m here. Be still.” Arthur pressed one hand to Merlin’s hips. He wasn’t even aware that he’d been rolling them, searching. Arthur lay down on top of him, pressing down over as much of him as he could. Merlin groaned happily at the grounding touch. He slid his hands down over the muscular back, gripping Arthur’s round arse and pulling it toward him, rolling his hips again. “God, you’re on fire, Merlin.”

“Need you,” he mumbled, rocking his hips upward, feeling the tip of Arthur’s cock slip through the wet mess between his legs.

A look of confusion flashed over Arthur’s features, and he leaned back slightly to look between their sweat slicked bodies. He reached a hand down, tentatively, and touched Merlin’s soft skin in the cleft of his buttocks. “You’re soaked,” he marvelled, moving to stroke the sensitive flesh there, causing Merlin to shudder and whine. He rubbed the head of his penis through the slick again and let out a groan, grasping himself at the root. “Ah! What is this? What’s it doing to me?”

Merlin writhed, gripping at any part of Arthur’s body he could touch. “Oestrum,” he panted. “Makes your knot grow. Fuck me with it.”

“Ah, Merlin! This fucking hurts!” he whined, squeezing his cock as hard as he could where he could feel the burning swell beginning to grow near the base.

Merlin was suddenly furious with being teased and denied. “Fuck you, Arthur. Everything hurts!” As if to drive the point home, Merlin’s guts clenched hard again, causing him to cry out. “Fucking take me, already. God, I’m so ready, Arthur. Fuck me,” he panted. “Knot me, claim me. Oh god, Arthur, please.”

Instinct took over as the begging Omega beneath him squirmed, and Arthur lined their bodies up and pressed himself into Merlin.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” they groaned in unison.

Arthur pressed his forehead against Merlin’s then and thrust into him. The stretch and burn were more than Merlin could handle, yet everything he’d ever wanted. He wrapped his long legs around Arthur’s hips and used his heels to push himself up as Arthur thrust downward.  
  
“More,” he begged. “Deeper.” He could feel Arthur’s knot swelling against him, teasing at his rim with each thrust, never quite breaching him. “Push it in, Arthur, before it gets too big.”

Arthur leaned back to watch, mesmerized by the sight of the foreign bulge of his cock pressed between Merlin’s ass cheeks. He pressed slowly, gently, against the tight ring of muscle, hissing slightly at the tightness of it. “Okay?” he asked, soothing Merlin’s own hiss by rubbing his hands over his thighs. Merlin nodded, unable to articulate anything more clearly than a series of half words and sounds falling from his lips in a constant stream. Arthur pressed firmly, then, using his weight, and Merlin’s body swallowed him whole in a sudden spasm of his muscles.

“Oh god,” they whispered together. Arthur stilled, in shock. Merlin’s eyes fluttered shut as the stretch of Arthur’s growing knot consumed him. It felt like being torn open, ripped apart. It felt like the greatest thing in the universe. He opened his eyes again and gasped at the sight of Arthur’s face above his. His eyes were black with lust, pupils as blown out as Merlin knew his were, hair matted to his forehead with sweat which rolled down through his brows and over his cheeks. He reached up and smoothed the furrow between his brows.

“My Alpha,” he whispered.

Arthur’s trance seemed to break then, and he dropped forward on his elbows, nearly crushing Merlin with his weight. He pressed his face into the crook of Merlin’s neck, nuzzling his scent gland, revelling in the amazing odor of the heat hormones. “Merlin, I can’t last like this. You’re too tight, too good.”

“Don’t wait. Mark me,” he said, turning his head slightly, giving Arthur full access to his gland.

Arthur nuzzled him a moment longer, rubbing his lips gently against the spot beneath Merlin’s skin. He ran his tongue over it, flat and smooth, preparing the area before sinking his teeth into it. Merlin let out a surprised yelp, but remained perfectly still. The small gland burst between his teeth as he broke the skin. As the blood and fluid rushed into the hot suction of his mouth, Arthur’s body shuddered, spilling his seed into Merlin, making him twitch and jerk beneath him through his own orgasm. He tongued at the wound, cleaning and soothing it with his saliva, mixing their fluids together.

Merlin’s eyes were closed, the only movement of his body the shallow panting of his breath. When Arthur finally let go of his neck, he turned his gaze back to him. His lips were swollen and reddened with lust and blood. Merlin kissed him then, their first since the heat came on, deep and desperate, still locked together by Arthur’s knot. Merlin felt like he couldn’t get close enough then, like being practically split in two by Arthur wasn’t good enough. He wanted to consume him entirely, pulling at every bit of flesh he could reach.

“Mine,” he panted when the kiss broke.

“Yours.”

Suddenly it felt as if his heart was breaking, and he let out a sob. “Arthur,” he cried, holding him to his chest, as if that would stop the pain. Arthur was feeling the same pain and held Merlin tighter to him, whimpering. As suddenly and intensely as the pain had arrived, it subsided, filling them both with a rush of relief and pleasure unlike any orgasm they’d ever had. They held one another, sobbing through the sensation, trying to keep one another grounded.

“I can feel you,” Arthur whispered into Merlin’s hair. “It’s like...” he trailed off, ill-equipped to draw a comparison.

“The Bond.”

“Yes, oh god. The Bond. How could you have ever doubted that I would want this? Want you? Merlin, you are everything.” He peppered his cheekbones with kisses, small and light, nuzzling his jaw and ears as Merlin tensed again, shuddering in his arms. “You okay?”

“You’re still coming inside me. I come when you do, remember?”

“Am I?” he laughed, causing the knot to tug uncomfortably for both of them, resulting in a simultaneous gasp. “All I can feel is how tight you are, and how insanely hot. It’s never felt like this before, being inside of you.”

“The first knotting, for The Bond, usually lasts the longest, Finna said. I think we’re going to be stuck here like this, coming over and over like that, for quite a while.” He glanced down over their bodies taking in the bedroom and rumpled bedding with a sweep of his eyes. “Can you move at all? You’re sort of crushing me.”

“We clearly didn’t think this whole thing through,” he said with a smirk.

“Were you capable of thought? Because I only had one, and it was _FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME_.” Merlin laughed at himself then, causing his muscles to tense again, pulling a groan of pleasure from them both. “Oh god, this is blissful torture.”

With some effort, a little pain, and a whole lot of swearing and apologising, they managed to roll themselves over so Merlin was atop Arthur, still joined together while they waited out the rest of Arthur’s orgasms so his knot could subside and release them. They dozed between waves of pleasure, wrapped in one another’s arms, and were fast asleep when they’d finally separated.

  
~O~

  
Arthur woke with an urgent need to piss and grabbed his phone on the way back from the loo. Settling back down beside his snoring husband, he opened the lock screen to send a message to Mithian, requesting that she cancel and reschedule his meetings for the remainder of the week. He was surprised to see an email message from his mother-in-law.

 _Arthur darling,_  
_By now you and Merlin will have Bonded and all I can say is congratulations and welcome to the most incredible days of your lives. Try to ignore the fact that I’m his mother, and let me speak frankly with you about what you’re going through and will go through. Blush if you need to. I certainly am as I type this.  
I understand that he’s an adult and that you’re a married couple, and that your reproductive business is absolutely NONE of mine, but I was absolutely shocked to have Freya phone me in a panic. I didn’t know Merlin had stopped his hormone therapy. But now that I know, I have important information for you that I know your father would never have told you, so please forgive my intrusion into_ _your marriage bed.  
I would imagine right now he’s sound asleep and you’re feeling restless — that’s the Alpha instinct to guard your Omega while he’s vulnerable kicking in. I assure you, he’s safe. Take this opportunity to go to the kitchen and eat something, bring lots of water back with you for Merlin. I sent Freya to shop for you and the kitchen should be well stocked with food and bottled water.  
He should drink plenty over these next few days, and he won’t be able to eat, so take care with his hydration level. But you will need to eat between each coupling, even through the night; you’re using more energy than you think you_ _are. Try to get him to drink when he wakes up, but he likely won’t be able to until after your next coupling. He will be barely conscious for most of the next few days; his only real moments of clarity will be during the time when you’re knotted. Talk to him then as he won’t remember anything else. Make him drink when he’s lucid before he falls asleep again. Don’t forget to eat.  
The next three to four days of your life will be spent caring for Merlin, Arthur. His body has effectively shut down and he’s unable to do anything at all for himself_. _This will be the first heat he will have truly experienced, as Gaius and Caroline usually had to sedate him to get him through it, and I’m thrilled he has such a strong and loving husband as his Alpha. You will spend your days cuddling, sleeping and having sex, with very little room for anything else. When it ends, it will feel a bit like emerging from a cocoon. The world will seem entirely new to you both. Explore it together.  
Over the next few weeks, you two will discover new ways in which The Bond speaks to you as a unique pair, but for right now, it’s holding you both in a tight embrace, almost excruciating. You’ll feel pain when you leave his side, but that will ease off once his heat ends. Don’t panic_.  
_The mark you’ve left on his neck will be healed by the time this ends, your saliva acts as a healing agent. It needs no other care, and you won’t be driven to bite him again like that — that’s simply how The Bond is formed. Your body chemistries will have been slightly altered, and your scents will reflect that. It signals other Alphas and Omegas that you’re unavailable — a pheromone wedding band, if you will_.  
_I hope you’re aware of the fact that Merlin’s heats means he’s fertile, and that what you’re doing may very well result in pregnancy for him. However, the reality is, few Omegas conceive during their first heat or their Bond heat (though few Omegas make it to nearly thirty before meeting their Alpha in my familial experience). If you’re both hoping for a baby right away, please don’t be crushed with disappointment if it doesn’t happen. If you’re not hoping for a baby right away there are ways to take preventative measures following this heat and before subsequent heats. I can advise on those later if desired_.  
_Lastly, I love you, Arthur. You’re all a mother could hope for in a partner for her child. I’ve spent the last fourteen years of Merlin’s life despairing that he’d live this life alone, or not live it at all. You may have had a rocky beginning, but I know that was mainly Merlin’s fear and anxiety driving him to make decisions his heart didn’t want. He’s wanted you since the very beginning, and now, through marriage and The Bond, you’ll always have one another. He’s always said that Gwaine was his strength, but Arthur, I know that you are his courage. Your bravery has shown him a life he never thought possible. Help him live it._  
_With so much love,_  
— _Hunith_

Arthur was overwhelmed with gratitude for the family he’d found in Merlin and his unlikely tribe. He sent a quick email to Mithian, replied to a text from Leon, who was concerned about his rapid departure from work, and grabbed a pair of boxers off the floor. His stomach growled insistently and he figured he’d better heed Hunith’s advice: Eat, Drink and Shag Merlin. These were things he could do.


	8. A Night Like This

**September 2015**

 

Merlin was tired. No, he was more than tired. He was empty, spent, hollow, bereft. There was nothing left of him to give. He’d bled it all out, cried it all out, and was left a shell. He was tired of the look in Arthur’s eyes, the hurt, the pity, the anger, and even fear. He was tired of being tiptoed around, spoken about in hushed tones, and glanced at frequently as if he were a troublesome problem to be solved. He was sick and tired of it all.

He was tired of being babysat like a child. They were taking turns, he knew, but he was too tired to suss out the schedule. His mother had been first, when he got home from the hospital, but he’d been too tired and groggy from the meds to even really register her presence. Her voice had been there, and the soft cool touch of her hand to his face now and then. Then there was Gwaine, solid and comfortable in the bed beside him, coaxing broth down his throat now and then and holding him together like always. Once it was Percival, who had brought Kay’s chocolate muffins and fairy cakes for him, but whose eyes never fully met Merlin’s — uncomfortable with the agony in them. Freya was holding down the fort at the lab, he knew, but she stopped by on the weekend when Will was home with the boys. She talked about everything she was taking care of for him, but he didn’t really listen.

Nobody wanted to talk about _it_ with him. He couldn’t blame them. He wasn’t really ready to talk about _it_ yet, either.

Arthur had thrown himself into work with intensity like never before. Late nights and early mornings. Merlin wasn’t even sure he was sleeping — he certainly hadn’t been in their bed, not since—

It had been messy, horrific. It was all he could see when he closed his eyes until he’d become so numb to the sight that it became his new normal. A placental abruption was what Elena, the midwife, had explained. Merlin was lucky to have survived. He’d woken in agony, cried out, holding the small swell of his pregnant belly, knowing something was very wrong. Arthur switched on the light and promptly panicked.

Their bed was full of blood. So much blood.

Elena was by his side at the hospital before he knew what was happening, explaining the tear, the drastic loss of blood, the nonexistent fetal heartbeat. With her wild blonde hair in a messy topknot, obviously dragged from her own bed in the middle of the night, all Merlin could focus on was how she looked like a disaster, she looked like his insides felt — scrambled, hopeless, lost.

Arthur felt miles away, sitting in the chair beside him, holding his hand. Merlin knew he was scared, that despite his outward demeanor, controlled and calm, his guts churned with worry. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to be fully present, like he could will it all away if he didn’t acknowledge it. There would be a surgery. There was every hope his uterus could be saved. He’d be able to try again.

Now, a week later, those words haunt him. Try again? As if the sudden and heartbreaking end of his pregnancy, in its twenty second week, was somehow a failure on his part. It wasn’t like when he hadn’t passed his driver’s exam when his mother had said to study harder, practise more, and try again. Merlin hadn’t failed in his preparations for this pregnancy. He’d done everything right — contacted a midwife, taken his prenatal vitamins, stopped drinking epic quantities of coffee; he’d done everything he was told to do. He didn’t know how to improve, to work harder, or do more. His heart told him that no matter what, he would fail again.

He opened his eyes when he felt the bed bounce gently beside him, and it took him a moment to register the other occupant. “You look like shit, Merlin. And you smell worse. When was your last shower?”

“Don’t know. When Gwaine was here, I think.”

“Christ, it’s been four days since he was here last. Have you been out of bed at all?” She yanked the sheets away from him and marched into the master bathroom.

“Morgana, go away.”

She switched on the water in the tub after dropping the stopper in and tossed in a bundle of something she’d pulled out of her purse. “I think not, my lovely. You’re foul, and in need of some serious TLC.”

Merlin grumbled and rolled onto his stomach in an effort to block her out. “I’ve had all the TLC I can handle. I want to be alone.”

“Tough shit, sweet cheeks. It’s my turn to be your mother hen, and there’s no way I’m going to let you lie in bed and mope.”

“Planning to drag me into the bath by yourself then?” he mumbled into the pillows.

“Get your skinny bony arse into that tub, Merlin Emrys-Pendragon, or so help me, I will come back with Uther to scare you into it.” She toyed with her silky black hair and arched her perfect brow at him as if she were daring him to test her

With a huff of frustration, Merlin shoved himself out of the bed. “Fine, harpy.”

“Good,” she purred, like a cat who’d got the cream. “I’ll go down and start some proper tea. Arthur says you’ve been living on soup, and that just won’t do. You need meat, my boy. Red meat. I’ve brought leftover roast and veg. Come down once you smell better.”

She’d spoken to him like a human, an adult human, and for that Merlin supposed he was grateful. He stripped off his flannel sleep pants and tee shirt and stepped into the tub, letting it continue to fill around him. The small parcel bobbing about smelled like flowers and left the water a bit pinkish. He laid back and tried not to think of how the amniotic fluid must have been pink with blood, his and the baby’s, as she had helplessly floated in it to her death. He wondered fleetingly if he yanked the plug, would he be able to wash away with the bathwater and join her.

The stab of anger in his heart swelled to a monstrous thing, and he distantly heard his phone ring in the bedroom. _Arthur._ He knew his anger scared him. He heard Morgana on the other side of the door talking to her brother, assuring him that Merlin was safe and okay, just out of bed for the first time in a week. He closed his eyes and slipped beneath the water to block it all out.

He languished in the tub until the water had cooled and he shivered. He scrubbed his hair clean, drained the tub and dragged himself into a clean pair of sleep pants and a soft worn jumper. His stomach was growling, and he thought maybe Morgana hadn’t been far off the mark with his need for something substantial to eat.

He found her at the stovetop, stirring a small pot of gravy. There were two plates, piled high with meat and vegetables she’d brought from home. “Well, you look a damned sight better. How do you feel?”

He stared at her, unable to answer. Sitting at the table he looked up at her and eventually offered, “Clean?”

“Hungry?”

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“Good.” She ladled some gravy over his plate and handed him a fork. They ate in relative silence. Merlin noticed that she didn’t stare at him like he was a ticking time bomb, the way the others had, or completely avert her eyes out of discomfort. She ate and looked up at him and smiled now and then, and cleared the plates when they’d finished. “Better?”

“I guess.”

“Good. Now, go put on some socks and shoes. We’re going for a walk.”

“Morgs, I can't.”

“Don’t give me that. Get your shoes on. I’m dragging you, kicking and screaming if I have to. I want to show you something.”

Reluctantly he dressed for their walk while she cleaned up the kitchen, silently hating her for her big sister bullying. No wonder Arthur had loathed her growing up. _She’s pushy and mean._

They walked for a while, Morgana’s arm looped through his as she dragged him along. She reminded him to breathe in the fresh fall air and smell the delightful scent of everything in bloom. He had no idea where they were headed, but the air was making him feel clearheaded for the first time in a week.

After what felt like ages, they arrived at a small gated garden. Morgana pulled a set of keys from her jeans pocket and opened the gate to let them through. Merlin took in the narrow cobblestone pathway that led from the entry around some tall plants, no longer flowering, but still lush with life as Morgana closed the gate behind them. They followed it along for a short while in silence, Merlin taking in the different types of plants in the beds, and eventually came to a bench before a small pond. Morgana pointed at the bench and ordered him to sit.

“What is this place?” he asked as she joined him.

“This, my sweet brother-in-law, is where I come to grieve.” The words struck him through the heart like an arrow. “I cry here. For my mother. For the first man I thought was my father. I still occasionally cry for Duke — the Great Dane Arthur and I shared in our youth together, and”—she turned to look him in the eye—“I cry for the baby I lost.” He stared at her, open-mouthed and broken-hearted. “Leon bought me this garden when it happened.” She looked down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap, and swallowed hard. “Like you, it was my first pregnancy. We hadn’t told anyone yet about the baby, but you’ll know how the moment you find out you’re with child your entire focus becomes their existence.” He nodded with tears in his eyes. Yes, the moment Arthur had said he suspected Merlin was pregnant, his whole world was suddenly the size of a grain of sand. His hopes and dreams for the baby had consumed him.

“I come here,” she continued, “when I have something I want to share with them — my family. I asked my mother to care for the little one, to keep him or her safe, and I feel like she does, here in this garden. I imagine I hear the laughter of a small child here, playing with Duke. It hurts, Merlin.” She reached for his hand, and he let her take it. “And it heals.”

He swallowed, throat working to get the words past the lump that had risen in his throat. “I didn’t lose her,” he whispered. “I killed her. It’s my fault and I can’t— I’m not sure— He can’t forgive me—” he broke, sobbing.

“Shush, love,” she murmured, pulling him into her arms, “Hush. You did no such thing. Nothing about what happened is your fault, Merlin. Nobody blames you for this, especially not Arthur.”

“He won’t come home, he doesn’t share our bed, he’s gone Morgana. He’s there, but he’s gone at the same time.”

She pulled back, taking his face in her hands, thumbing away his tears. “Arthur is grieving, Merlin. Just like you. Only he hasn’t got the physical recovery that you’ve got, so I know he feels he can’t lie in bed all day and hate the world the way you’ve been. He’s thrown himself at work to block it all out, to hide away from it. You need to grieve through this together. You need a place to cry, Merlin, whether it’s a garden like this, or simply in his arms, you both need a place to cry.” She held him close and let him sob himself empty once again.

They had stayed for a while after that, talking about everything and nothing. When Morgana locked the gate behind them as they left, Merlin looked toward the sky, under the canopy of brilliant green leaves shimmering in the sunlight, and knew what he’d needed to do. Before looping her arm through his for their walk back, she dropped a duplicate gate key into his hands. He stared at her, not knowing what to say.

“Shush, it’s nothing. I hate that I can share this with you, because it means I share this pain with someone I love. But I love that I can share this with you because it means I share this pain with someone I love.”

“Thank you, Morgs.” He kissed the top of her head, smelling her coconut shampoo. “You’re a terrible person, but I love you just the same.”

“You’re welcome, love.” She gave him a small lopsided smile. Merlin took a deep breath.  He felt that when they got back, just maybe, he wouldn’t head straight for bed again.

  


~O~

  


“You’re sure?” Arthur asked, confused. When he had arrived home, late once again, Merlin was sitting in the living room waiting for him. He was bright-eyed but tentative, unsure of how Arthur would take his request. It was clear from Arthur's expression that whatever he’d thought Merlin was going to say, it certainly wasn’t what he’d just heard.

“Yes, Arthur.” He stepped forward, suddenly unsure. “I mean, if that’s alright with you? I understand if it’s not.”

“No! Oh, Merlin.” His voice softened and he reached out a hand to touch Merlin’s face gently. “Of course it’s alright with me.” Merlin’s heart squeezed with Arthur’s — an element of their Bond — and they both cried softly. They stood in the living room, holding one another tightly for the first time since they’d lost her, revelling in the comforting touch only they could provide one another.

It had been arranged for the following week. They stood side by side, holding hands with tears rolling down their cheeks, as tiny Ygraine Emrys-Pendragon’s remains were laid to rest with her namesake, her grandmother. “To keep her safe,” Merlin had said.

As they walked away from the headstone, now coupled with a tiny one engraved with a white rose, Arthur looked back over his shoulder. “Thanks, mum,” he said, and Merlin knew, given time, that he and Arthur would heal.

  


~O~

  


Arthur burst through the front door two hours before Merlin expected him. He knew Arthur would have sensed his mixed emotions all day, but didn't anticipate that he'd actually leave work. The look on Arthur's face said he was unprepared for the sight that greeted him when he opened the door.

Gwaine was carrying a small suitcase down the stairs, talking over his shoulder to Merlin, who stood at the top with another travel bag in his hands. They both stopped, looking awfully guilty, when they saw Arthur standing in the open door. His voice was tight, strained-sounding to Merlin’s ears when he managed to ask, “Going somewhere?”

Placing the suitcase in the hall, Gwaine said, “I’ll be in the car, Merls. Take all the time you need.” As he passed a glowering Arthur, he ducked slightly and said, “Princess, just listen to him.”

When Arthur turned his eyes once again to Merlin, he was halfway down the stairs, hands guiltily wringing the handle of the bag he carried. “I’m not leaving.”

“That’s not what I see.” Merlin’s chest tightened as he could feel Arthur’s panic.

Coming down the rest of the way to stand before him, he placed the bag on top of the suitcase before speaking again. “You know,” he said calmly as he stood to face Arthur, eye to eye, “I don’t remember the last time I felt my own feelings, Arthur. If you feel them, I wish you would tell me what’s going on, because I don’t know anymore. I don’t have emotions, just emptiness. Is that all you feel, too, or am I alone with this?” Arthur turned white and looked as if he couldn’t breathe —  as if Merlin’s admission had completely sucked the air out of their home. He was leaving and taking it with him.

“Where are you going?” he managed to ask, trying to keep himself calm enough to hear Merlin’s answer.

“I called Doctor Kilgharrah this morning. I’m going back to Avalon. I need to go back, Arthur.” He dropped his gaze, staring at their feet nearly toe to toe. “I need help.” He heard Arthur’s swallow, deep and deliberate, and looked back up to his eyes, those perfect blue eyes, swimming in unshed tears. He reached up and placed his hand against Arthur’s chest and sighed. “Two weeks ago I cut myself. I’ve done it every day since then. Just to feel something.”

The pained sob Arthur gave sounded to Merlin’s ears as if he had torn it from him with his bare hands. “Where?”

“My biceps.” The look of sheer anguish in his husband’s eyes tore at his heartstrings.

“How long?”

“Until I’m stable again, I guess. I’ll be able to have visitors. I want you to come and see me. I won’t have my phone, but you can call the front desk to talk to me. Arthur, please. Please understand that I can’t live like this. I’m sick.”

Arthur closed his eyes and let out a sigh as he felt tears roll down his cheeks. “I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

“Then you know that this is for the best, that I can’t fix this here, like this.” Arthur nodded, biting his lips. “Will you come?” His heart squeezed painfully as he waited for Arthur’s reply.

Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin, burying his face in the curly hair behind his ear, breathing him in. “Every goddamned day, my love.” He picked up Merlin’s suitcase and carried it to Gwaine’s car for him. They embraced tightly, gripping one another’s shirts in clenched fists. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening, okay?”

Merlin closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of Arthur’s neck. “You had better.”

  


~O~

  


“Percvial, please, I’m begging you.”

“Merlin, I just don’t see how it’s ethical. I can’t just keep you locked up in my house, drugged out of your mind, for a week! You’ve only been out of Avalon for a month, for Pete’s sake.”

Merlin rubbed his hand over his face, and stared at the calendar on the kitchen wall. It looked like a death sentence hanging there. “I know. Fuck.”

“Call Caroline. If she approves it, and it’s above board, I’ll do what I can to help. But if Kay has qualms about me doing this, I have to say no. Is that understood?”

“Of course.” Merlin already felt lighter, knowing Percival might be able to help. “I won't push. He knows what I'm up against now, and if he says no, it's a no. Let me call Caroline and get back to you. Thanks Perce.”

He paced between the kitchen and the dining room of the house, glaring at the calendar with each pass. Maybe he could do it alone — send Arthur away. _No. He'd never leave me._ Once he’d chewed his lips bloody, he resigned himself to call Nimueh and ask for her help to get through his oncoming heat cycle with seclusion and sedation.

“I just can’t face it right now, not so soon,” he’d pleaded. “God, Caroline, Arthur and I aren’t even really back to good, yet. Going into heat is the last thing either of us needs while we are still figuring shit out.” He could hear her hesitating on the other end of the line. He pressed on, “I don’t think getting pregnant right now is going to do much good for my mental health. Please, I’m begging you.” He was starting to feel like a broken record.

Finally, she let out a sigh of resignation. “Merlin, let me see what I can do.”

“Oh god, thank you, thank you.” He nearly burst into tears of joy for the relief her words provided.

“What’s the timeline look like?” she asked, clicking away at her keyboard.

“I should cycle again in two weeks.”

“Let me start the paperwork then. You want homecare, with Percival, yes?”

“As long as it’s above board, he said he’ll do it, yes.” He could hear her still typing. “Caroline?”

“Mm?”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

  


~O~

  


Merlin stepped off the plane onto the tarmac and was physically assaulted by the cloying humidity of the tropics. “Oh god, Arthur. Why are we here again?”

“Because, Merlin, we’ve had the year from hell, missed our second wedding anniversary because of it, and I wanted to spoil you for the holidays.”

Arthur already seemed to glow with a tan, and they’d only been in Barbados for three minutes. He looked like a bloody tropical flower, opening up in the humidity. Merlin felt like a limp noodle that was already feeling the beginnings of a burn, wilting in the soggy air.

“Right,” he muttered as he hitched his travel case over his shoulder and headed for the van waiting to drive them to their villa on the beach. Though, once they’d arrived and he felt the breeze blowing in off the water through the open windows, he felt quite revived and ready to enjoy the time reconnecting with his husband away from the chaotic turmoil of their actual lives.

He dropped the bags on the massive bed, surrounded by billowy white curtains, and stepped out onto the verandah overlooking the turquoise Caribbean Sea. The sun was near to setting, and he stood in awe of the spectacle. As he was recalling a piece of Dr. K’s advice, to always look for the beautiful things, he felt Arthur’s strong arms come around his waist and his chin rest upon his shoulder. He smiled at the perfect timing and said, “I was just looking for you.”

He felt Arthur’s hum through his back, leaning now into the broad chest behind him. “It’s lovely, isn’t it? Paradise.” Merlin nudged his head gently against Arthur’s in agreement. They were jetlagged and filthy, but for this perfect moment, staring at the blazing sun sinking beneath the horizon, everything was beautiful.

Once the sun had vanished, leaving the sky a gorgeous shade of pink with streaks of purple darkening toward the heavens, Arthur murmured, “Hungry? They left a huge platter of fruit in the fridge for us, and champagne.”

They gorged themselves on fresh tropical sweetness, sitting on the steps of the villa that led to their private beach, bare toes wiggling in the cooling sand before them. They talked of everything and nothing, their work, their friends, the small band of Dragon Anam they’d found and built a tiny social community with. Eventually, the exhaustion of timezones and international travel had them dragging themselves toward the bedroom.

“Come on, let’s shower first.” Arthur turned toward the spacious bathroom, open to the night air, and turned on the water. “Come on, Merlin. I know you’re tired, love. But you’ll regret getting into bed dirty from the day.” Merlin pouted like a child but allowed his husband to slowly undress him and drag him under the glorious stream of cool water. They washed one another’s hair and backs, pausing now and then for sweet tasting kisses.

“I love you, prat. You know that, right?”

Arthur flashed him a big cheesy grin, pleased with himself. “Yeah. But I love to hear you say it.”

Merlin shut off the water and threw a towel playfully at Arthur’s face before wrapping another around his hips. “Come on. I need to go to bed before I collapse and sleep on these tiles.”

They dried themselves off and crawled into the massive bed, groaning as they let their bodies relax into its softness. Arthur turned to wrap his arms around Merlin’s chest and buried his nose in his damp black curls. “I have a gift for you. For in the morning. Don’t let me forget.”

“Can I have it now?” Merlin slurred after a moment’s silence between them.

“Too tired.”

“M’kay.” The roar of the surf beyond their window dragged them both into a deep and relaxed slumber, curled around one another, safe and content.

Morning broke with an alarming chorus of birdsong and too-bright sun for the early hour. Merlin turned lazily in Arthur’s arms to face him and kissed the bridge of his nose gently. “Good morning, clotpole. Where’s my present?” Arthur cracked an eye open and glared disbelievingly at the perkily expectant face before him. Merlin’s eyebrows waggled excitedly at him.

“How is it, Merlin, that you have to set six alarm clocks to drag your lazy arse out of bed for work, but on the first day of holiday, you’re up at the arse-crack of dawn like you’re five years old and it’s bloody Christmas?”

Merlin giggled and poked Arthur’s belly repeatedly. “Because this is our Christmas holiday, and you said you had a gift for me.” Arthur slapped his hands away and rolled out of bed laughing. He sauntered into the bathroom again and closed the door. “You kept my present in there?” Merlin hollered through the door but was resolutely ignored. He flopped back against the fluffy pillows and waited for Arthur to emerge.

When he did, he was just as naked as he was when he went in. He was also empty-handed. Merlin scowled. “You’re my husband, you don’t count as a present.”

Arthur prowled toward him, a sleek lion stalking his prey, causing Merlin to gulp loudly and his skin to tingle in anticipation. He crawled slowly up Merlin’s prone body, dropping hot kisses to his skin as he passed over him. When he got to his face, he licked a stripe over the edge of Merlin’s ear and purred, “Had to pee. And so do you. Get up, lazybones.” He slapped Merlin’s naked thighs as he hopped back with a devilish smile. “Brush your teeth while you’re in there, too. Mine were covered in champagne fuzz. You’ll have your gift when you’re done.”

Merlin planned to speed through his morning routine in the loo, but ended up having to clean up the mess he made when a small lizard ran up the wall and out the window when he’d started to pee. _At least I didn’t scream like a girl._ He brushed his teeth, keeping his eyes downcast, hating the sight of his new scars in his reflection. They were still a dark purple, stark against the milky paleness of his inner arms. Arthur paid them no mind, loving his arms as he always had, neither ignoring the marks nor drawing attention to them. They had simply become part of the scenery, but Merlin still struggled with the regret he felt when he saw them.

When he opened the door, Arthur practically panted, “Oh thank god. I thought you were never coming back.” Merlin was about to tell him about the lizard incident but his brain shut off at the sight before him, laid out on the bed like a feast.

Arthur was face down on the bed, sprawled out with one knee hitched up to the side. Merlin had a perfect view of his gorgeously plump arse, spread and glistening with lube, and Arthur had two of his fingers pressed deep inside of it. His face was flushed and he was panting, his cock hanging semi-erect below him on the sheets. Merlin approached slowly, enjoying the view, afraid Arthur would stop if he realized he was being watched. But he knew, had planned this, and Merlin had never been more pleasantly surprised by the beautiful man before him.

He got up on his knees behind him, watching, gently stroking the back of his thighs. “Arthur,” he breathed, reverent. “Arthur.” He reached forward tentatively and rubbed his fingertip around Arthur’s stretched skin, feeling him draw his fingers back for Merlin to take his place.

Before he could, Arthur gripped his hand, slippery with lube, but strong and firm. “I love you.” Merlin looked up into his eyes, dark blue slits against the sheets, and kissed his way along Arthur’s spine, biting his shoulder gently as he slipped his fingers into him. Arthur inhaled sharply despite his previous stretch, and smiled warmly over his shoulder. “Happy anniversary.”

Merlin chuckled at that and gave his wrist a twist and found Arthur’s prostate. “And happy birthday to me. And happy Christmas, too.” Arthur gasped and arched his back with a feral sound of pleasure. “And I’ll take that as a happy New Year, as well.”

“Ah,” he panted, fisting the sheets, “I’ve been practising.”

“Yes, I can see that. Thank you.” Merlin slowly and gently worked a third finger in with the others. “For two years?” He smirked, kissing Arthur’s back again.

“No,” he said through clenched teeth. “I, uh, oh god, um...” he trailed off, much to Merlin’s amusement and arousal.

“Tell me after, love. Just enjoy this.”

Arthur let out a grunt of acceptance and closed his eyes again, completely giving himself over to Merlin’s strong and confident hands. He took his time, exploring the tight velvet heat of Arthur’s backside, anticipation coiling within his belly at what was to come. Before long Arthur was rocking gently back into his hand, fucking himself as much as Merlin was fucking him. He withdrew his hand slowly, gently rubbing the stretched rim as it closed around him. He crawled to his knees before Arthur’s face, flushed and sweating into the pillows. Holding his cock at the base, he held it before Arthur. “Come on, suck me. Get me rock hard for you.”

Like a man possessed, Arthur lunged forward at the sight of Merlin teasing his foreskin down, exposing the head of his cock for his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it before closing his lips to give it a deeply satisfying suck. Merlin’s gasp above him would have made the prat smile, but he was too busy sliding his tongue and lips further down over his shaft. When he drew his mouth back to the tip, he brought his hand up, gripping him firmly where his lips and tongue had been, keeping the sensation of tight heat all around him. Arthur bobbed his head slowly, pulling in unison with his fist. Merlin enjoyed the view of his plush lips stretched around him, and the feel of his cock hardening against Arthur’s tongue. Merlin was busy muttering filthy encouragements to him and trying to keep his torso upright, gripping the headboard like a lifeline.

Arthur pulled his face away and leaned up to kiss Merlin. His lips were swollen and covered in spit and their kiss was a mess of teeth and tongues. “Lie back,” he panted against his mouth. “I’m going to ride you.”

“Oh fuck,” Merlin gasped and quickly propped himself against the pillows and the headboard, allowing Arthur to straddle his hips.

Arthur cupped his balls with one hand and gripped Merlin’s shoulder with the other as he lined himself up and began a slow and torturous descent down his cock. His brow was furrowed with concentration and sweat rolled over his temples, and Merlin thought he’d never looked more sexy. His hands gripped Arthur’s thighs tightly, struggling to breathe through the blissful agony of sliding into what felt like endless heat. When Arthur was fully seated, Merlin leaned forward to peck his lips softly, looping his arms around his waist. Arthur’s breath was coming in fast little pants, and his body was rigid in Merlin’s arms.

“Take your time, love. I know it’s intense.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Merlin,” came the quietly grumbled reply. Merlin smiled against his lips and could feel some of the tension leaving Arthur’s body at last. Still, he waited for Arthur to make the first move, knowing how important it was for him to have complete control. He just continued to pepper his face and chest with little kisses and let his hands slide over Arthur’s back in long soothing motions.

When Arthur finally rolled his hips, they both gasped at the sensation. His erection was growing between their bellies, enjoying the friction their position afforded it. He rolled his hips again and lifted slightly, letting gravity pull him back down. “Fucking hell, Merlin.”

They found a steady but gentle rhythm that let them both savour the new and exhilarating sensations. Merlin let go and laid back against the pillows again, using the leverage of shoulders and feet against the mattress to fuck into Arthur with each bounce of his arse against his hips. “Lean back a bit, yeah, like that. Brace yourself on my legs.” The change in angle had Merlin striking Arthur’s prostate with every thrust, causing him to cry out shamelessly. “Fuck, Arthur. Look at you. You’re so fucking perfect.”

He reached out to pull Arthur’s neglected and weeping erection in time with his thrusts, causing a flutter of Arthur’s muscles around Merlin’s own cock. They shouted in unison at the sensation, and as Merlin’s body went rigid with his orgasm, he felt Arthur’s paint his chest and throat in thick hot stripes. Arthur collapsed onto the bed beside him, pulling off his sensitive cock abruptly, causing them both to hiss through their teeth.

“Gotta work on your dismount,” Merlin deadpanned, running his fingers through the slick come on his torso. “God, it’s in my belly button. Gross.” He could feel Arthur chuckling quietly beside him, and turned his face to look at him.

Arthur was staring at him, dopey faced and blissed out, like he was the sweetest treasure in the entire universe. “It’s in your ear, too,” he smiled happily.

Merlin swiped at his ear with one hand and his belly with the other and attacked Arthur, painting his face with his own semen. There was a loud wrestling match then, as they tried to out-gross one another, laughing and shouting obscenities intermittently as they tumbled off of the expansive bed. When they’d tired themselves out again, they lay side by side on the floor, catching their breath.

“You okay, Arthur?”

“Well, I’m covered in sweat and come, I won’t be riding a bicycle any time soon, I’m exhausted, hungry, and I think a small lizard just ran over my foot.” He rolled onto Merlin then and nuzzled his filthy face into his neck, causing him to squirm delightfully beneath him. “But, I’m in paradise with the man of my dreams, the love of my life, my husband. He just made love to me for the first time in our four years together, and I could not be more okay. I am the definition of okay. The bar on okay has been raised so high, it’s gonna be tough to stay up here.”

They lay there, sticky and uncomfortable, but too happy to move for quite some time. Eventually, the hard floor beneath Merlin’s shoulder blades made him itch to get up and get clean. He poked a long finger into the soft flesh between Arthur’s ribs and hip and said, “Come on then, Casanova. Let’s go see if the lizard’s kinks include shower voyeurism, too. We already know she’s into watersports and come play.”

“Watersports? Oh, is _that_ what that girlish squeak was?” Arthur tossed his head back and barked out a sharp laugh.

“Shut up, prat.”

Arthur snorted and hopped up, dragging a boneless Merlin into the shower for a thorough scrubbing. “Maybe she wants to have a threesome.”

Merlin eyeballed her, perched on the wall in the corner of their room, and huffed haughtily, “Back off, tiny dragon. This Alpha is mine.”

 

~O~

 

They sat at the breakfast table, enjoying fresh eggs and hot Caribbean coffee, when Merlin finally asked, “Why now?”

“Hmm?” Arthur sipped his coffee, confused.

“Well, you said it didn't take you two years to practise for that, to bottom for me. So, you either waited until now to try it, or you waited until recently to work on it. So. Why now?”

Arthur looked at Merlin with a face he couldn't read. His heart rate increased slightly —  Merlin felt it through The Bond they shared — and he assumed Arthur's answer was one he struggled with. “I—” he started. He put down his coffee cup and tried again. “I wanted to give you the option since…” He swallowed deeply, trying to find the words.

“Since the baby,” Merlin finished for him. “Why?”  His heart clenched at the memory, but he wasn't hurt by Arthur's admission.

“I didn't know if that was something you could face again. I don't think I could, if it had been me. I just thought, if you never wanted me like that again, I needed to be prepared to give you that option.”

Merlin reached across the small table and gave Arthur's hand a squeeze. “Dollophead.” There was nothing but affection in the word, and Merlin smiled softly. “I love you. You're incredible. Thank you.”

He got up and crawled onto Arthur's lap, looping his arms loosely around his shoulders. They kissed tenderly, lovingly. When they broke apart for air, Merlin leaned back slightly to look Arthur full in the face. He said, “I love you for that generous offer, but I'm going to have to ask you to fuck me now. Because it's been months, and I think my bony wee bum has forgotten what it is like. It needs a refresher course.”

Arthur's hand gripped the bum in question, and he nipped at Merlin’s bottom lip before kissing him again, filthy and deep. He stood, lifting Merlin by the thighs, and carried him back to the bed, still a mess from their wrestling match.

“Idiot.”

“Prat.”


	9. Close To Me

**August 2016**

 

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice seemed both concerned and irritated, and it stopped him in his tracks.

“Hmm?”

“Merlin, what exactly is all of this?” He gestured into their shared walk-in closet. _Damn._

Merlin came to stand next to him and looked down at the mess on the floor. There were pillows and blankets taken from various places about the house, the sofa cushions, throw blankets, all of the bedding from their guest room, his heat blanket, and every blanket they’d received as gifts for the babies. “Um,” he hesitated, scratching the back of his neck.

“Is that my footie uniform?”

“It’s not _not_ your footie uniform.” He grimaced at himself.

Arthur turned to face him, taking his hands and lifting them up to kiss his knuckles. “My love, what are you doing?”

“I have no idea. I just keep bringing things in here. Soft things.”

“My footie uniform is soft?” Arthur tried to keep his voice steady, non-judgemental.

Merlin shrugged. “It’s silky, I guess? It smells like you,” he offered as if all of this made perfect sense.

“Put it all back, you weirdo. I can’t get at any of my things.”

“I—” Panic gripped him. “I can’t. I need it.” Arthur looked at him like an injured lamb, which, if Merlin was being honest with himself, made him want to stab Arthur repeatedly. “Don’t. Do not make that face at me, Arthur Bloody Pendragon.”

He stepped closer, letting one hand drop to the massive swell of Merlin’s belly. “It’s _Emrys_ -Pendragon, clotpole,” he whispered. Merlin sighed heavily.

“That’s my word, idiot.”

Arthur smiled. “This is a pregnancy thing, isn’t it? You’re building a bleedin’ nest in our closet, Merlin. Like you’re planning to give birth at home.”

 _Oh god, I’ve built a nest._ “I guess so?” _I should call Mum._

“Should we call Hunith and ask her about this? Because we have a very definite plan in place for the birth, Merlin, and as I recall, it doesn’t involve you whelping pups in our bedroom closet.” He slapped Arthur’s hands off his belly at the last comment.

“Our daughters are not pups, and I am not your bitch, so shove off, you massive fucking prat!” He burst into tears as he locked himself in their shared bathroom. _Motherfucking hormones._ He sat heavily, as if he could sit any other way these days, on the edge of the bathtub. _Fuck._ He patted his pockets. _My phone is out there._

Arthur muttered for a moment on the other side of the door, only every few words making their way to Merlin’s ears. He was fairly certain he heard ‘idiot’, ‘asshole’, and ‘motherfucking hormones’ and continued to sob into a towel. _Ooh, this is really soft,_ he found himself thinking through the haze of misery and wailed again as he realized he wanted to take it out and put it in the fucking closet.

He quieted down when he heard Arthur talking to someone. He could tell he was on the phone and quite likely sitting on the edge of their bed. “So it _is_ a nest, then?” Pause. “Sleep in it? Okay. Will he freak out again if I try to take him to hospital when it’s time?” Long pause. Heavy sigh. “Thanks, Mum. I’ll do my best to keep him calm and happy.” Short pause. “No, I know he’s uncomfortable and anxious. I just want to make sure he’s not losing his marbles.” Pause. Chuckling. “Love you, too. Bye.” Sigh. Knock. “Babe?” Merlin wiped his face with the towel and struggled to stand from the edge of the tub where he’d sat. “Merlin, can you unlock the door please?”

“I’m too fat,” he sulked. “I can’t get off the tub.”

“Hang on,” he heard Arthur huff. Moments later he heard the familiar clicking of the pin they used to trip the lock mechanism on the door, used more and more frequently as Merlin’s pregnancy had him accidentally locking himself in the bathroom quite often. The lock clicked open. “Can I come in and get you?”

“Only if you don’t want a fat dragon living on the edge of your bathtub for all eternity.”

The door eased open, and Arthur poked his golden head around it. The fucking injured lamb face came back and Merlin went from pouty to murdery in seconds. Wisely, Arthur noticed and evened out his features. “I talked to Mum.”

“I heard. I’m not losing my marbles. Yay.”

Arthur took him gently by the elbows and helped him stand up. “No, you’re not. You’re a pregnant Omega nearing the end of his pregnancy. Mum assured me that while you are, in fact, building yourself a nest, it’s not to give birth in.” Merlin just looked dumbly at him, lost for words. “You don’t sleep anymore, right? Our bed is miserably uncomfortable for you like this. Mum said Omegas build a nest for sleeping in until they deliver, and said you’ll likely want to sleep in there with the girls once they’re home.”

“But—” he swallowed, feeling emotionally tiny despite his physical size. “I don’t want to sleep away from you.”

“Which is why I’m going to sleep in there with you.”

Merlin laughed out loud at that. “I want to tell the world that Arthur Bloody _Emrys_ -Pendragon sleeps on the floor in a blanket fort in a closet.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” he said, smirking, and kissed Merlin’s cheeks, taking the dampened towel from him.

“Er, actually.” Merlin tried to take the towel back. “Um.” He grinned sheepishly at Arthur’s inquisitive look. He grabbed the bigger bath towels off the warming rack. “They’re really soft.” He shrugged as he waddled past Arthur to toss them into the closet.

“Yes,” he laughed quietly. “Yes, you are.”

“I heard that,” he called from the hallway on his way downstairs. “Now come feed me. I’m half starved to death gestating your children.”

 

~O~

 

Freya pushed his sweat-dampened fringe away from his face and murmured comforting nonsense at him in his pained distress. “Where’s Arthur?” He panted as another wave of agony rolled through his abdomen.

“At the reception desk, sweetie. He’s getting you all registered,” she comforted him quietly as she helped him out of his shirt and into the gown provided in the delivery room.

“You did this three times, Frey,” he marvelled as his pain subsided. She chuckled at him and nodded. “You’re mad.”

“I am. And so will you be. You’ll see.”

“But _three_ times? There isn’t enough money in the world to make me do this again.” He started to laugh but was cut short by the building of another contraction.

“At least you’re getting a Two-for-One,” she replied when his face relaxed and he reopened his eyes.

Elena was there, setting things up on the trolley beside the bed, monitoring devices, towels, waterproof bed pads, et cetera, and talking in hushed tones with Percival, giving him the rundown of what to expect from Merlin and what was expected of him. Merlin had requested that Percival be present for the birth for reasons of personal comfort and trust, and Elena had agreed that despite the norm of no male nurses in the maternity ward, this wasn’t a maternity case and Percival’s size would come in handy managing the bulk of a six foot tall pregnant man, while his pediatric expertise would be welcome once the babies were delivered. The obstetrician and pediatrician on-call had been paged to be on stand-by.

The twins, as was typical of multiple births, were coming several weeks early. Elena assured him the babies were both in the perfect positioning for delivery, but Merlin, as could be expected, was losing his mind with worry when he wasn’t busy trying to crush Freya’s tiny hands during contractions. Bless her sweet little heart, but she did her best to soothe him and didn’t complain about her poor crumpled fingers.

“Merlin, I’d like to attach this belt to your belly, okay? It’s like a Doppler wand that you wear. It lets me hear the heartbeats of the babies so I can make sure they’re doing okay in there while your body gets ready.” Elena approached him with the confident calm of a woman who had officially seen it all, and not someone who was about to help a man with no vagina deliver not one, but two babies into this world.

As she looped the belt behind Merlin’s back between his contractions, he stared blankly at her, taking in her wild messy topknot, her baggy grey sweats, and hilariously amazing hot pink crocs. His midwife was an absolute mess of a human, clumsy and a bit brash, but in the delivery room she shone like a rock star to him. No wonder Gwaine had fallen for her the moment he’d introduced them. Her calm and unhurried movements were more graceful and confident than he had ever expected, and within seconds the room was filled with the loud whooshing sounds he’d grown accustomed to at their appointments of the babies’ heartbeats.

Arthur walked into the room as Merlin leaned heavily on Percival through another contraction. Merlin felt Arthur's heart stutter at the sight of his husband, red faced and sweating, trembling in agony. “I’m here,” he whispered as he smoothed his hand over Merlin’s shoulders. “What do you need?” he asked with tenderness and trepidation.

“Just help,” came the quiet reply once the pain receded again.

“I’ll hold him up, Arthur, and you get his trousers and pants off. Elena needs him undressed and on the bed to assess his progress.” Percival ran his arm under Merlin’s and across the width of his back to his opposite armpit and helped him stand while Arthur obeyed, lowering his clothing down over his legs and off over his already bared feet. Freya had retreated to the hallway to ring Hunith to let her know it was all happening now.

The next four hours passed in a haze for Merlin. Arthur rubbed the heels of his palms into the flesh of Merlin’s lower back during contractions and fed him ice chips in between. Percival helped to lift and support him as he became restless in one position for too long. He had spent a while panting on his left side, then his right. Percival held him upright while he attempted to walk around the bed, as far as the cables of the fetal heart monitor would allow, pausing as each new contraction took him over and he trembled and breathed his way through it in the safety of Percival’s strong grasp.

As Merlin’s groans and shouts of pain became more frequent, Arthur began to pale and visibly fret. The thought of losing Merlin in childbirth gripped him with sharp talons of horror that Merlin felt alongside his labour pains. When Merlin cried out, Arthur cried with him. Elena quietly and effectively soothed both men and issued orders to Percival, who did his absolute best to anticipate her requests and Merlin’s needs with the practiced efficiency of the length of his career.

Freya poked her head in intermittently to refill the cup of ice chips, get updates for the waiting room occupants, and relieve Arthur for a short time. Merlin was frantic the first two times Arthur suddenly turned into Freya, her voice too small, her hands too gentle. But now he barely even registered the change, nor did he truly hear her words as she informed him who had arrived and was waiting with her in the lounge area to meet the babies. He simply rocked back and forth, running his large hands freely over the massive swell of his belly, feeling it tense and release as the pain gripped him.

Elena was content with his progress, but twelve hours in, Merlin was exhausted and miserable. He lay on his side, Arthur behind him rubbing firm circles into his back, Percival holding a wrist limply and looking at his watch making sure Merlin’s heart rate was where it should be. Elena was watching the ticker tape readings of the fetal monitor and making notations on her chart in Merlin’s file. The pediatrician had been in to discuss things with her and Percival at some point, and set up the equipment he would need for the premature babies.

Merlin lay on the delivery table, staring at the awaiting equipment, fearing everything that was happening — the changes to his body, the pain he was suffering, the risks involved with a premature multiple birth, the lines of terror marking Arthur’s exhausted face, the overwhelming concept of parenthood — it all left him feeling hollowed out.

In a moment of calm between the waves of gripping pain of contractions, Merlin whispered, “I can’t do this,” to no one at all.

Percival’s grip changed on his wrist to hold his entire hand in his. Elena glanced up at Merlin’s face to assess his level of discomfort and exhaustion. But Arthur stopped breathing. His hands stilled on Merlin’s back, broad palms flattening to his ribcage, and his eyes drifted closed. His heart clenched in miniature mimicry of Merlin’s uterus and he cried out against the pain in a sob.

Merlin rolled his shoulder back to look at Arthur. His hands fluttered to touch his face and soothe the lines etched into it with worry and fatigue. He watched as fat tears rolled out of those deep blue eyes and over his fingertips, stroking Arthur’s cheeks.

“Please, Merlin,” he whispered, his voice breaking in a sob, “please don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you.” He tightened his fists in the pale blue cotton of Merlin’s gown and sobbed.

Merlin’s hands shook against his face and he gasped in a quiet _oh._ Arthur looked up to see Merlin’s face suddenly drawn in concentration, listening to his inner workings, calling on his latent Omega instincts. His eyes were closed and brow drawn down in pain, but his breathing was steady. He gently laid his hands upon his belly and groaned a deep, almost feral sound. Elena shot to her feet and laid a hand on his belly, palpating and assessing with swift movement.

“Perce?” Merlin called softly, eyes still closed.

“I’m here,” he answered, putting his large hands confidently over Merlin’s.

“I need to roll over, on my knees.”

Elena nodded her approval as Percival glanced to her before moving him.

“Merlin, what’s happening? What's wrong?” The panic was evident in Arthur's voice.

“I’m having our babies,” he said, voice now muffled by the pillow under his face, eerily calm.

Elena moved behind him, adjusting the belt of the monitor as Percival helped him get into a comfortable position on his hands and knees.

“Percival, page Doctor Thompson, please,” Elena ordered. “These babies are about to join us!” She smiled cheerily at Arthur who looked panic stricken and overwhelmed. “Merlin, where do you want Arthur?” she asked as she donned a pair of latex gloves and verified with a quick exam that Merlin’s cervix was indeed fully dilated and his instincts were right.

Merlin, once settled in position, had started rocking back and forth gently on his hands and knees, and occasionally drawing his belly up, tight, toward his spine with an arch of his back. Arthur hovered uselessly at his side, waiting for instruction. Humming tunelessly in the back of his throat through a contraction, Merlin seemed lost within himself and didn’t answer.

The need to push overwhelmed him and his hands fisted in the sheets as he gave in to the urge. After several tense moments the urge passed and Merlin dropped to his elbows as he exhaled fiercely. He reached blindly for Arthur who gripped his hands like they were the only thing keeping him in this world. He smiled weakly before his face changed to one of determined concentration and he began to push again. Elena coached him through it, urging him to exhale and breathe the baby out rather than hold his breath with each push. Percival had removed himself from the delivery table to the waiting warming tables and incubators to prepare the tools Doctor Thompson might require once the babies were born.

Between pushes, Merlin opened his eyes to seek out Arthur’s, wanting the comfort of his husband’s face. Elena continued praising his efforts and offering advice and coaching him through the ordeal, and Merlin let his unique nature take over and deliver the first of his two daughters into her capable hands. He sagged against the bedding in relief once she was out and Elena clamped and cut the cord to pass her into Percival’s waiting arms. Merlin laughed out loud as Percival called out her weight for the doctor to record once she had been assessed and prepped her for her incubator. She stared at her surroundings, alert.

“Shouldn’t she cry?” Arthur wondered aloud.

“Not always, Mr. Emrys-Pendragon. She was a bit grey in colour when she was first handed over, but now, look at how lovely and pink she is. Her lungs are well developed, and she is breathing easily on her own, just needed a touch of suction to clear her lungs. Four pounds eleven ounces is a very healthy twin birth weight.” Before Doctor Thompson was finished, Elena was coaching Merlin through the next wave of contractions, holding one hand firmly at the base of his spine, and the other gently probing his hanging belly.

Six minutes later, their second daughter was passed into Percival’s arms.

Arthur helped rearrange Merlin’s position to his side as Elena instructed for the delivery of the two afterbirths. The pair clapped their eyes on their tiny babies on the other side of the room, being worked on and assessed by Doctor Thompson and Percival. Before long, Percival flashed them a wink and a thumbs up, indicating that all was well with both girls. The second baby had taken a minute longer to pink up, but cried out heartily once she was able. Percival measured her at four pounds and three ounces. Merlin marvelled that his body could even contain that much extra person. Tears of joy and relief poured out of him unbidden and plentiful while Arthur held onto him in silence.

He kissed Arthur’s fingertips where they were interlaced with his own. “Go and hand out the cigars, Papa.”

Arthur tensed. “Not yet.”

Merlin frowned at him in confusion. “My mum will be worried sick, Arthur. And I’m sure Freya has strangled Gwaine by now, if Morgana hasn’t.” Arthur made no move to leave Merlin’s side.

“Not until you’ve held them,” he whispered.

“Oh, Arthur,” Merlin cried quietly. He held onto his hands more tightly and said no more. He understood implicitly. Elena was still working to manage the after effects of delivery on his body and there were no guarantees that Merlin was out of the woods just yet. Anything could happen to him, even now that the babes were born. Arthur wanted him to hold the girls for their own sake, and Merlin would not deny his daughters that same comfort.

Once Elena had dealt with the afterbirths and verified that Merlin’s body was behaving as any typical post-delivery body — uterus contracting to stop blood flow, cervix beginning to close up again — and was content that Merlin had come through his delivery healthy and was recovering, he was moved to a private room. Percival wheeled the incubators along behind Arthur who pushed Merlin in the wheelchair into the awaiting suite he’d arranged for them. It had a typical hospital bed for Merlin, a rollaway cot for Arthur, and everything they’d need to care for the babies while they waited to be released. It was as comfortable as a hospital stay could get, and they knew they’d be there for a couple of weeks while waiting for the girls to get the all clear to come home.

Percival helped get Merlin settled on the bed, propped with pillows and covered with warm blankets while Arthur returned the wheelchair to the nurse’s station. Elena and Doctor Thompson had finished filling in their paperwork and taking measurements of the babies and had fitted the girls with their identifying ankle bracelets.

As Arthur lifted one of the tiny babies out of her cot at the doctor’s instruction, gently and with eyes filled with awe, Merlin was overcome with the abundant love he felt for his family, letting his tears flow freely over his cheekbones as Arthur handed her to him.

Elena had sat on the edge of the bed facing him and helped him position her in his arms against his softening belly. A moment after settling her into a comfortable hold, she turned her face and began the lip smacking, baby bird face of a hungry infant against Merlin’s skin. “She smells your milk, Merlin,” Elena whispered to him as he marvelled at the sight. He winced when she first latched on, and again as Elena poked and prodded his small soft breast, helping to stimulate the flow of the colostrum into the baby’s mouth. “Your milk will come in over the next few days.”

He looked up from the face of his daughter, filling her little belly with what he was able to give her, to the face of his husband, staring at them both with tears in his eyes. Arthur met his gaze and nodded gently. He finally felt the rush of relief, of knowing the three most important people in his life would be okay. He lifted the second baby and brought her over to the bed, and held her in his arms while Merlin finished nursing her sister.

The tears flowed freely then, between them all.

 


	10. Treasure

**March 2017**

The flight over had been horrible. They were all jetlagged and cranky. The makeup woman had despaired at the dark circles under Merlin’s eyes and was busily fussing at them with a brush covered in coloured powder. “This wasn’t this hard last time,” she’d muttered under her breath. It took every ounce of strength Merlin had to simply smile politely and apologise rather than shout in her face that the last time he’d been radiantly pregnant and well rested. Now, he was the harried father of a pair of noisy and demanding twins who had just spent the last twenty-four hours in airports, airplanes, taxicabs and hotels with the equally harried other father of said noisy and demanding twins. And his mother, to boot.

They’d dressed him in a dark blue shirt with a dark grey tie and grey dress slacks this time, which was much less comfortable than the loose and comfy pregnancy clothing he’d worn the last time. He hated this part of it all — the primping and preening. He tried to ignore the makeup woman and the large man behind him fussing furiously at his unruly curls, and watched over his shoulder through the mirror where Arthur and Hunith were sitting with the girls, now six months old, bouncing them on their knees.

Various tech people walked purposefully about the stage area as the audience members filtered in, finding their seats. Some staff wore headsets and spoke in direct and curt tones through them to unseen other staff members. Camera operators tested their equipment and the sound crew tweaked with this and that. He was dimly aware of someone slipping a mic pack over his belt and clipping the wireless mic to his tie just above the smart silver clip.

He closed his eyes with a sigh. It was all overwhelming, and he just wanted it all to be over and done with.

“Good luck, love,” he heard Arthur whisper, and he opened his eyes to give him a brief kiss, causing the makeup woman to squawk indignantly at him. “Mum and I will be watching from the green room. You’ve got this.” He squeezed his hand on Merlin’s shoulder and retreated as Merlin was pushed toward the edge of the soundstage to wait for his introduction.

“Good afternoon, Chicago!” beamed the host, Morgause. Unlike many television and talk show hosts, she was a big enough personality for the single name to suffice. She was a charming blonde woman with a warm smile and huge brown eyes, which lured one into a false sense of security before she started asking the hard-hitting or more intimate questions. Merlin had been overwhelmed by her during their first interview, but this time was ready for her.

As the audience quieted their applause, she continued, “You will recall that last year I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to interview Britain’s ‘Omega Man’, Doctor Merlin Emrys-Pendragon, the gifted scientist who discovered the Alpha and Omega genetic mutation occurring in small populations around the world. At the time, miraculously, he was pregnant and carrying the twin daughters of his husband, Arthur Pendragon, the president of world-renowned Pendragon Technologies. Well, he has taken the time to be with us again today, bringing his beautiful family with him. Please help me welcome Doctor Merlin Emrys-Pendragon!”

He smiled widely and stepped out under the lights to join Morgause in front of the plush chairs waiting for them at the center of the stage. He offered her a European double cheek kiss and waved warmly to the audience before sitting in the seat reserved for him.

“Merlin, how are you?” she began, baby-stepping him into the interview.

“Happy to be here, thank you for having all of us this time.”

“Not at all. My absolute pleasure. Tell me, how have things changed for you since your last visit to the show?”

“Well,” he started, rubbing his palms over his thighs, easing his tension slightly, “initially, I started receiving emails and letters from women all over North America who had seen the interview, then as the video went viral, all over the world. Messages just flooded in. I had to hire administrative staff to simply help me manage the influx.”

“Fan mail for the handsome young doctor?”

He cracked a small smile. “Some, yeah, but really, mostly women who felt that they might carry the Omega gene, wishing to participate in my study. Women wanting answers, just like me.”

“Just women?”

“If you’re asking whether or not I’ve found another Omega male, the answer is no. It would seem I’m all alone in that category, I’m afraid.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “So these women, were you able to help them?”

“I developed a sort of screening process, a set of parameters, and posted access to it on my website. I asked that those with concerns submit their questionnaires online for review, enabling my staff to simply filter the responses and narrow down the potential cases for my final review. So far, I’ve successfully identified an additional thirty Omega cases.”

“Thirty! That’s a fair number, isn’t it?”

“Well, I received thousands of questionnaires, and more come through every day. Like I said, I had to hire staff just to manage it all. I expect after this show I’ll have another wave of inquiries.” He looked directly into the camera lens and joked, “Sorry guys, but think of the overtime!” He smiled warmly at the audience members and back at Morgause. “But the best part of discovering these people, and mapping their genes, is that I’ve been able to also map their family members, and have, as a direct result of that process, identified seventeen positive Alpha cases. Our little community is growing. We are now a clan of seventy members, all told.”

“Now, as a refresher course for the audience and viewers at home, explain the significance of the Alpha and Omega genes, if you don’t mind?”

“No, not at all.” He was in his glory here, talking about the secrets he’d carried for so long with shame, openly and unabashedly. A chart appeared on the screen behind them, and he explained the basics of the Alpha/Beta/Omega offspring. “Omega carriers are only able to produce offspring with an Alpha carrier, which may even be born Beta, despite their parentage, surprisingly. The percentage of Beta/Omega couples seeking fertility treatments is almost one hundred percent — with the odd couple choosing to be childless.”

“And the majority of the human population are considered Beta, in the terms of your genetic study, yes?”

“That’s right.” Looking out at the audience he smiled. “You’re all Beta, here. Though”—he paused, glancing out at the sea of faces—“I might be wrong, but I think there’s actually an Alpha in the audience.”

The entire audience looked around at one another curiously, and Morgause’s brows arched elegantly above her eyes. “How can you tell?”

Merlin glanced back at her and smiled cheekily. “I can smell him.” Her brows stayed high, her mouth parted slightly, speechless. “During the commercial break, if I may, I can walk about the audience and find him.” He twitched mildly, then, feeling Arthur’s sudden protectiveness. He laughed. “Sorry, my husband objects.”

“Oh?” She glanced over his shoulder into the wings and frowned. “How do you know that?”

“It’s one of the amazing qualities of being a Bonded pair, actually. We can’t read one another’s minds, or anything, but we acutely feel one another’s emotions. It’s a handy feature, really — ends a lot of marital arguments before they even begin. Does wonders for my anxiety disorder, too. He feels my panic attacks coming on and helps me through it, even if we’re apart.”

“Arthur is watching from the green room,” Morgause explained to the audience. “So, what did you feel just then to let you know he didn’t approve?”

Merlin tried not to blush, and failed miserably. “He growled.”

“Like a dog?” She smirked with an eyebrow raised.

“Like a protective husband who wants to keep his mate away from another Alpha.”

“And you heard it, or felt it?” Merlin had her stunned.

“There was a disturbance in the Force,” he deadpanned. The audience laughed and Morgause smiled warmly at him. “Really, though, it’s not something I can explain to a Beta, I’m sorry.”

“So now that you’re finding other Alpha and Omega carriers around the world, what’s the next step? Are you playing Cupid for these folks? Can we add Matchmaker to your list of titles?”

Merlin laughed heartily at that. “No, nothing quite like that. Though, there is a safe and private chat space, created and overseen by my sister-in-law, Morgana le Fay, where these people can be in touch and get to know one another without the influence of their hormones interacting first. It is only accessible to those who have been screened and properly identified by my office to keep these individuals’ right to anonymity and security. These folks deserve the opportunity to meet others who share their experiences and potentially find a life mate in the process.”

“A life mate, you say”—she furrowed her brow slightly—“because Alpha and Omega pairings, as you mentioned briefly on your previous visit to the show, are permanent and monogamous, correct?”

“Right. That’s what’s meant with The Bond I mentioned earlier, being able to feel Arthur’s mood. Once a pair has established The Bond, it can only be broken by death. Not something anyone should just hop into lightly, I think.

“In fact, though it’s only a hypothesis at the moment that I’m not willing to test, I believe that’s the reason I was born a male Omega.” Morgause simply quirked a quizzical brow, urging him to explain. “Because my father died before I was born, my mother had her Bond broken while I was still developing, early on in the pregnancy. It’s quite likely that extreme shift in hormones is what caused me to be born this way. But I refuse to put any person through the agony of a Bond break just to try it on. Not when it means certain death for a test subject.”

“But it's certainly something to be aware of as your community grows,” she offered.

“Absolutely. Should one of our Bonded pairs be broken while the Omega is expecting, we would certainly observe her and the pregnancy very closely for possible answers.”

Morgause nodded, face sombre. “I know you said you can’t explain how The Bond feels to a Beta”—she gave a tight smile—“but how can you enlighten us about it? How is it formed? What changed for you both?”

“Right, well—” Merlin leaned back in the chair slightly, stretching his spine. “Firstly, for me, I felt overwhelmingly safe, which seems odd, I guess, as I wasn’t in any danger before. I just felt like everything was right. Right on the heels of that sensation came the fierce need to protect Arthur at all times despite, again, any source of danger. I can only assume that’s an evolutionary leftover. Then”—he leaned forward, reaching for Morgause’s hand, circling her thin wrist with his long fingers gently—”our pulses matched. You see, if you take my wrist, you’ll note our heartbeats are differently timed?” He offered his other hand for her to take. “My heart and Arthur’s heart beat in perfect unison, always. It’s especially frustrating when he trots off early for a game of footie, and I’m trying to have a lie in.” He let go of her hand and laughed.

“I guess that’s one way we feel each other’s emotions. I feel when his heart rate changes and he feels mine. And lastly”—he paused to loosen his tie slightly and show the join of his neck and shoulder—”this darker spot here was made by our Bonding. It’s the location of one of many Omega scent glands I have. Arthur burst it with his teeth, permanently altering my scent with his saliva, and his scent is also permanently altered by the blood he ingested at the time. A Bonded pair doesn’t share scents, but our scents change to reflect our partner, in a way. I can tell that the Alpha in the audience is Unbonded because his scent is pure. A Bonded Alpha, to me, smells slightly sour, not sweet. It signals to other Omega that he’s off limits, so to speak.”

Morgause looked mildly pale beneath her stage makeup. “He burst a gland with his teeth?”

A slight blush and a subtle clearing of his throat and Merlin confidently answered, “Yes,” and offered no more, meeting her gaze evenly.

“Aside from changing how you smell to others in the community and a strong urge to protect one another, what is the purpose of Bonding in this way?”

“That was actually the biggest discovery for me in the last two years. Omega women simply cannot get pregnant unless they’re Bonded. We couldn’t fertilize Omega ova in the lab no matter how hard we tried — until we tried with Bonded ova.

“The chemical changes that occur at the time of Bonding enable the ova of an Omega to recognize the sperm of her mate and grant fertilization to him alone. This is largely why we feel it is important to try to foster natural Alpha/Omega relationships within the community. Modern medicine has inadvertently reduced our population drastically since the sixties and the ‘sexual revolution’. Widespread use of chemical contraceptives for a variety of women’s issues completely masked and altered the way Omega pheromones interact with the environment. Basically, ‘The Pill’ drowns out Omega pheromones almost entirely. Alphas simply weren't able to find us. Arthur and I feel it is our duty to share this knowledge and hopefully help our Alpha and Omega community to flourish once again.”

“Fascinating.” Morgause shifted in her seat slightly. “Alright, let's switch gears.” She shook her hair back over her shoulders, fingering an errant curl away from her brow. “How else has life changed for you and Arthur since you last visited? Obviously, you’re no longer pregnant. Can we show the photo?” she asked her tech crew, and suddenly on the screen behind their chairs was the photograph that Gwaine had taken of the family for the newspaper article he wrote, introducing them to the world. The audience’s collective _Awwwww_ made Merlin beam with pride.

“Right, yeah. I gave birth, so that was weird. And now, Arthur and I have these two amazing little girls. And we have launched our first joint project, The Emrys-Pendragon Room.”

Morgause laughed openly then. “Your husband bit your neck, permanently changing your body chemistry, your heartbeats are in sync, and giving birth was weird.” She shook her head, smiling. “We will delve into that, and your new project, after this break.”

At the cut, Merlin stood and addressed the audience briefly. “Please, would you be able to remain after the show so that Arthur and I may approach you all together? He will be able to tell if there are any unaltered Omega among you, and I’ll be able to find our resident Alpha, wherever he may be.” He sat again and met Morgause’s fierce gaze apologetically. “Sorry, your show. I know.”

Satisfied, she waved her hand dismissively and said, “It’s fine. Go easy on the shock value answers from here on out, though, okay?” She took a long drink from her mug on the table. Merlin moved to do the same, and before he was finished, they were counting down to air live again.

“Welcome back, everyone. I’m joined here today by Merlin Emrys-Pendragon, British scientist, former pregnant man, Omega male,” she said as she beamed warmly into the camera. Turning her attention to Merlin she said, “Just before the break we mentioned briefly your daughters, and you hinted at your experience with childbirth. Care to elaborate?”

Merlin swallowed hard, there was no gentleness to her tone now. She was like a shark circling bait. He had clearly pissed her off talking about The Bond.

“Well, the twins came six weeks early, which is somewhat typical for multiple births,” he started. “We were prepared with our team of professionals; obstetrician, pediatrician, nurses and midwife. Arthur was with me through it all. He was brilliant.” He smiled brightly.

“Was it a caesarian birth?”

“No, we got lucky. Both babies were head down and the delivery, I’ve been told, was fairly smooth. I’m sure the mothers in the audience can tell you, you tend not to remember the details.” He smiled and noticed several women nodding in agreement. “My body just knew what to do and did it with very little input from me at all, when it came down to it. I just pushed when my body said push.”

“You say ‘mothers’, do you consider yourself a mother?”

“No, not really.” He frowned a bit, trying to figure out how to say how he felt. “I’m their Daddy, Arthur is their Papa. Yes, I gave birth to them, but I’m not female. Parenting roles today have really blended together, gender stereotypes are dying. Arthur and I see one another as equals in our parenting. The term ‘mother’ is a sacred thing for a lot of people. But for us, it’s simply the feminine gender term for the neutral ‘parent.’”

Obviously not wanting to push _that_ line of thinking, Merlin thought, she switched gears again. “So, how has parenthood changed you? What surprises have you encountered along the way?”

Merlin rolled his eyes comically and laughed. “All the bleedin’ laundry! How on earth two such tiny people can make such mountains of washing up, I’ll never figure out.” He shifted in his seat, picking up on Arthur’s mood shift backstage. He frowned suddenly and tried to refocus on Morgause. “And I didn’t know it was possible to love so deeply. Not just the girls, but my love for Arthur changed, the love I have for my own mother, too. Everything just got bigger, brighter, more intense. I’m sure it’s like that for every parent, right?”

Murmurs from the audience indicated he wasn’t alone. He could feel that Arthur was growing anxious backstage, and Merlin missed the next question. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” he said, blushing.

“Yes, I noticed you’re suddenly uncomfortable, should we take a break?” Morgause asked Merlin, but glanced over his shoulder to someone off the set and frowned. “What’s that?” she questioned the employee, suddenly leaning in to whisper to her.

“One of the babies is screaming and Arthur can’t settle her,” the young assistant murmured.

“Oh, bring her out, I’ll fix it,” came Merlin’s quick reply.

“You’re sure?” Morgause was concerned, but wanted to keep Merlin comfortable. When he nodded, she turned back to the staff member and nodded.

“Sorry. Babies and jetlag are a terrible combination,” Merlin apologised to the audience and crew. He stood to receive his daughter, chubby and red-faced, wailing in her father’s arms.  
Arthur looked ragged as he handed her over, apologising profusely to the room. “My husband, ladies and gentlemen!” Merlin announced proudly, and the room roared with applause. He bounced his daughter a moment in one arm, shushing her as the fingers of his other hand deftly undid the buttons of his shirt and yanked his tie to the side. “She won’t take a bottle, I’m afraid,” he sighed, and sat again, cradling her against his chest, tucked into his open shirt. “Can you still hear me okay with my tie like that?” he asked to the tech crew in general and was given a quick thumbs up.

Morgause stared at him with eyes wide as the babe’s wailing stopped instantly and Merlin winced slightly at her grip to his chest. “You—” she stammered.

“Nurse the babies? Yes,” he provided. He instinctively began a gentle rock side to side as he cradled his daughter.

“Were you expecting to be able to? Is that something you were aware of before the birth? I mean, you don’t have what would be considered breasts?” She was struggling to regain her composure, and changed her line of questioning to address the startling development unfolding before her eyes, on live-to-air television, and in front of a live studio audience.

“I don’t, no. So, it’s not something we’d even really considered, initially. We had just planned to formula feed, assuming that was our only option.”

“What changed?”

Merlin’s memory flashed back to the night they’d made the discovery. He was so large and off balance in his late pregnancy that Arthur had to help him into and out of the shower and had grown accustomed to sitting in their bathroom during his showers to make sure he didn’t attempt to get out by himself afterward. He held Merlin’s hands to steady him as he stepped out onto the bath mat and smiled at Merlin’s changed form.

His belly was so round and distended and the scars from his cuts were joined and rapidly outnumbered by stretch marks. The thick line of black hair still surrounded his now protruding belly button and disappeared below the curve of his abdomen toward his pubic bone, yet the hair that once gently blanketed his pectoral muscles and surrounded his nipples had been gradually thinning and was now all but gone.

“Why do you think your chest hair has fallen out, but not this?” Arthur had asked, trailing his finger over the line of damp hair at his navel. Merlin brushed his hand away and rubbed the towel over his belly in an irritated manner.

“Don’t know. Let me ring the last male Omega and ask what his pregnancies were like.” He fixed Arthur to the spot with a stormy glare. Merlin was a miserable pregnant person. He didn't glow. He glowered.

“Hey, now, dollophead, I’m just curious if you’ve thought about it.” It worked. Using Merlin’s nickname insult for Arthur had shaken the storm from his eyes. He instantly softened.

“That’s my word,” he pouted. “Prat.” He dropped the towel on the edge of the tub and turned to look at himself in the mirror. His naked body amazed and horrified him. Brushing his hands across his smooth chest he winced slightly. Pulling his hand away to look at it, he said, “It’s sore”—he tapped his fingertips together—“and sticky.”

A quick consultation with Doctor Google had Merlin on the phone to Freya. “So you think it’s colostrum, too? Like, I’m going to make breast milk? Thanks. Love you, too.” Arthur had been staring at Merlin’s chest while he talked and Merlin prudishly dragged the bed sheet up over himself and scowled. He dropped the phone onto the bedside table and said, “Call me Bessie. I’m a cow.”  
  
Snapping his attention back to Morgause and the audience he gave a brief version of the story. “A couple of days after delivery, my milk came in. My milk ducts sort of wrap around my ribcage, which is why my chest is still flattish. They’re both naturals at nursing, and we got really lucky yet again.”

Stunned, but ever the professional, Morgause kept on with the interview. “Alright, so who is this little one?” She reached out to stroke the soft sole of the baby’s bare foot which twitched away from the touch.

Merlin let his gaze drop to her sweet face, gawking up at him with wide blue eyes from beneath her jet black mop of hair. “This is Thisbe,” he said with a smile. “She’s got my colouring, but she’s got Arthur’s fiery spirit and determination. Cybele is the blonde, likely quietly napping in her Gran’s arms backstage, and she’s our quiet observer.”

“What lovely names, unique and classic.”

“Thank you. We wanted the girls to have their own identities, not be named for family members or friends, you know? So we headed for Greek classics — since we identify ourselves with Greek letters of the alphabet. Thisbe is the original tragic lover — the inspiration for Shakespeare’s Juliet. Cybele is the mother of all gods.”  
  
Morgause nodded and smiled, watching as Merlin deftly popped the baby’s latch to turn and burp her. “Big shoes to fill, those, don’t you think?” Merlin smiled in response as the babe belched into his microphone, still propped up on his shoulder, causing a murmur of delight to run through the audience. “Speaking of your classification, do you know if the girls are Beta or Omega?”

Merlin _Mmm’d_ thoughtfully as he latched her to the other side to finish nursing and said, “It’s my understanding that we don’t present one way or the other before puberty. The flush of hormones at that time is what brings on the maturing of our scent glands, and for Omegas starts their heat cycle. For Alphas, puberty is when they become physically much larger and disgustingly charming.” He smirked at her. “So, we wouldn’t know for another several years, except—” He shrugged his shoulders as if to indicate he had the secret key to the great mystery.

“Except, you’re Doctor Merlin Emrys, the incredibly brilliant genetic scientist who discovered and mapped the genetic markers for the variation of both Alpha and Omega people,” Morgause offered.

He nodded gently. “I tested their blood shortly after they were born. But the results are their private property and will only be disclosed to them when they’re of an age to understand and want to know.”

“Of course, of course.” She tilted her head slightly toward him. “Curiosity kitten, and all that, you see.”

“You’re not the first to ask, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”

“You mentioned that puberty is when the changes for an Alpha and Omega person present themselves, that Omegas go into heat and Alphas, how did you word it? Become disgustingly charming?”

“Much physically larger and disgustingly charming, yes.” They both laughed.

“As your small community grows, have you picked up on general similarities of Alphas and Omegas like that?”

Merlin shifted slightly in his seat, adjusting his grip on the babe. “Well, seventy people isn’t a very large population to draw from, but there are similarities that are immediately recognizable. For instance, every Alpha we’ve identified is thickly muscular and athletic by nature, with very little effort required to maintain their large muscle mass. They are all around six feet tall and are the kind of people often described as ‘human furnaces’ — they’re simply hot bodied and either prefer cooler weather, or are unaffected by cold temperatures. They have a tendency to challenge one another to physical feats, like big burly show offs.”

She smiled at his description. “And the Omegas?”

“Discounting my anomalous self — Omegas are tiny things. The tallest woman in our group is five foot four inches. And though I’m as tall as Arthur, I’m very lean and look slight next to his brawn. We prefer warmth and cozy places, and since getting to know other Omegas, I’ve discovered there is a natural desire to cuddle one another. We are very touchy-feely.” Morgause gave a look and the audience quietly giggled. “I know. It’s weird. But I guess that’s part of the pack mentality that is an evolutionary holdover. It’s proposed that we lived communally in family packs or tribes, and that Omegas would likely house together for protection in numbers. To find the lot of us sprawled out on the floor together in a heap playing with one another’s hair isn’t uncommon. I guess that’s why the Alphas run so hot.”

Morgause laughed openly. “To lure you snuggly Omegas away from the community cuddle pile?”

Merlin just smiled warmly and shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve become upsettingly adept at braiding hair.”

Clasping her hands in her lap, she turned to address the audience. “We’ll break there, and let little Miss Emrys-Pendragon finish her meal, and when we return, I’d like to invite Arthur to join us on the stage. We’ll be right back,” Morgause crooned to the camera, and the audience was urged not to applaud for the sake of tiny ears.

“Jesus, Merlin,” she muttered once the cameras had cut. “I say ‘less shock value stuff’ and you bloody breastfeed on live television. Do you know not a single woman has done that?”

He turned pink at that. “Damn. It should have been a woman. I didn’t realize.” She raised her brows at that. “Well, nursing should happen anywhere, damn it. The first person to breastfeed on television shouldn’t have been a man.” He turned and offered sincere apologies to the audience.

“What’s done is done.” Morgause dismissed his concerns with a flick of her hair. She was obviously irritated with him. “We will move on to your project after this break, alright? They’re prepping Arthur to join us.”

He laid the now sleeping babe across his thighs and buttoned his shirt, straightening himself for the camera once again.

Once Arthur had been introduced and was settled in the chair beside him, Merlin felt he could relax a bit and cradled Thisbe in his lap while she slept.

“So, Arthur,” Morgause began, “first and foremost, congratulations on your beautiful family.”

“Thank you.” He smiled proudly.

“Since the publication of the photo of your family in the papers in the U.K. and tabloids across the world after that, how has the world changed for you in particular?”

“Well, having grown up a Pendragon, I’ve always dealt with a sort of secondhand fame associated with the name. People are quick to make assumptions about you before getting to know you. However, I was able to walk down the streets of London in a shroud of anonymity, no one knowing my face and name belonged together outside of the business world.

“When Merlin had come over last year for the show, his face of course became instantly recognizable, and that changed a few things for us as far as personal boundaries when in public. Not all instances of being publicly recognized are negative, but even the positive ones can come at inopportune times. Now that the whole family has gone public, we have certainly changed a lot of the ways in which we do things back home. We don’t leave the house without security these days. Which, I frankly don’t mind. My security team is comprised of my most loyal and faithful friends.”

“So why allow the publicity at all, then?”

“Because there are lost Alpha and Omega people out there who don’t know or understand that they’re not alone. By going public with Merlin’s discovery and our private lives, we have been able to draw some of those frightened souls out of hiding and have welcomed them into a loving and open community.

“We weren’t going to allow just anyone to photograph us for the papers. Gwaine Caerleon is one of Merlin’s oldest friends, and godfather to our girls. He’s someone we both trusted implicitly to do the right thing by our family and our mission with the piece that he published.”

Morgause nodded her head slightly. “It was certainly a beautiful piece. Let’s talk about your joint venture, The Emrys-Pendragon Room. What can you tell us about the project?”

Arthur straightened his back, ready to share with the world his new passion. Merlin sat back and watched with pride as Arthur talked — about how he had helped Arthur do something more with the Pendragon name than keep his father’s business thriving, how Merlin had opened his eyes to worlds he had never seen before.

“Mental health issues run rampant through the world, yet few can afford the help they need, whether it be counselling and therapy, or affordable medication. Merlin mentioned earlier today that he struggles with anxiety”—he reached across the arm of his chair to take Merlin’s hand in his—“but he has had a long hard battle with depression and self harm as well. Most of it was before we met, and so I didn’t get to understand the illness until it touched my life directly. You see”—he turned to catch Merlin’s eyes, who nodded slightly with a small smile to encourage him onward—“the twins were not Merlin’s first pregnancy.”

“Oh, I am so sorry.” Morgause raised her brows and looked at Merlin, who was looking down at his sleeping babe in his arms. He gave her a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Arthur pressed on, “After the loss, Merlin’s mental state slipped drastically. When he’d succumbed to self harm again, he checked himself back into the same psychiatric hospital he’d been in as a teenager for the same affliction. It was my first look into the public health system. It was certainly a wake up call for me.”

“In what way?” Morgause seemed to be completely enraptured by Arthur’s story. Merlin gave a small smile as he recognized that his Alpha charm had lured her out of her predatory instinct.

“What’s the point of being privileged if I don’t help people in need?” He turned his gaze to the audience. “I saw people in need, getting what help they could — but knew they were short on staff, short on funds, short on everything. And places like this, where there is no public health system, even more people are struggling. The idea for the Emrys-Pendragon Room was borne out of the desire to help. There's no cure, no fix for these people. Only support. I just want to make sure that support is readily available to those in need.

“I teamed up with my sister, an absolute goddess with computers and web design, and approached some of the doctors with whom we had worked over the years with the concept of a free online mental health hospital, for the world.”

“Free? How on earth will you manage that?” Morgause seemed to be captivated by the concept.

“Merlin and I brainstormed long hours for ways to make this a reality, what systems we would need, and how to make it operate. We have acquired the services of hundreds of psychiatrists, psychologists and social workers across the globe, as well as translators for the broad international scope of this project. It’s one hundred percent free to use, these amazing people on our team are volunteering their time, and I am subsidizing the drug costs across the board personally. Everyone deserves peace of mind. I’m thrilled that our online service, The Emrys-Pendragon Room, can help provide that.

“There are workshops, chat rooms, group sessions, and private sessions. We are linked up with all of the suicide prevention hotlines around the world, as well. If the site can streamline the public system, and provide relief, so that there are beds and supplies ready for the folks who need it when they need it, then it’s a win-win situation all around.”

Morgause interrupted him there. “You’re personally subsidizing medication costs — how will you recoup your losses?”

Arthur gave a sly smile. “PenTech equipment is currently used in nearly every medical and pharmaceutical laboratory across Britain and has been steadily branching out through Europe and Asia. Most of the drugs we are talking about are made entirely in my equipment, so they’re already provided to me at the cost of manufacture. We just teamed up with insurance companies and dispensaries around the globe to make these drugs available at no additional cost to the customer.

“I let the rampant success of PenTech and its subsidiary companies float the EPR project entirely. The bills are paid, my staff are well paid, my family is cared for, and I get to help people all over the world. I honestly couldn't ask for more than that. What better thing could I do with the money my companies make? Donate it to charity? That’s what we are doing. On a global scale.” He flashed a dazzling grin at Morgause, thrilled with being able to share their project with the world at last.

She shook herself from her daze, remembering her place as the host of one of the most popular talk shows in America. “Right, well. What an amazing team you two make. I wish you both, your beautiful children, and the Emrys-Pendragon Room every success. Thank you for joining us here today, Merlin and Arthur.”

“Thank you for having us,” they said in unison.

She turned again to the main camera and said, “The link for the Emrys-Pendragon Room is on the screen now. If you feel you’re in need of assistance for your mental health, please, log in and take advantage of this incredibly generous gift. I’m Morgause, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The recording light switched off and tech crew came out of the wings to remove mic packs and reset lighting. Morgause excused herself from the stage and thanked them again for coming on the show, leaving Merlin and Arthur to approach the audience together.

“Hello, folks. Don’t mind us. Just having a quick sniff.” Arthur smiled at them, and the audience tittered nervously as they approached.

He sauntered along the front row, breathing deeply, searching. Merlin stood back and waited for him to finish. Arthur gave a slight shake of his head. There were no Omegas that he could smell. A sliver of disappointment pierced Merlin’s heart.

Moving on, he said, “Our Alpha is on this side, somewhere.” He waved his hand to the right side of the room.

Merlin stood where he smelled the strongest scent of the Alpha and asked, “Who smells burnt peaches?” The folks in the group of seats before him looked around at one another, smiling at the absurdity of the question, when slowly a young man in his late teens to early twenties stood up, his friends all falling silent around him. Merlin’s eyes took in the way the young man seemed to be breathing nervously, but his eyes were blown wide. He took a step towards Merlin, standing there before him with a baby in his arms, and stumbled as if slightly drunk. “Found you,” Merlin whispered.

Arthur intercepted him and shook his hand firmly. “Hello there. Welcome to the clan, my fellow Alpha. Would you like to come and have a chat with us?”

“That depends,” he said, his voice deep and rich like liquid chocolate, smirking into Arthur’s eyes, clearly challenging.

“On?” Arthur returned his tone with raised brows.

“On how well you British ponces hold your liquor.”

Arthur puffed his chest slightly at the slur. “I’m buying, and I’ll drink your arse under the table, champ.”

Merlin just rolled his eyes and muttered, “Disgustingly charming.” He turned and headed off stage to where his mother was waiting with Cybele. He called out over his shoulder, “Come along, boys. You can sniff each other’s backsides at the pub.”

 


	11. This. Here and Now. With You.

**September 2019**

“Merlin, love?” His voice was gentle as ever, the hand brushing over his arm and forehead both warm and soft. “It’s time to get up, sweetheart.” Arthur’s face was smiling sweetly down at him as Merlin unglued his eyelids and pushed the duvet lazily away from his shoulders. “You okay?”

“Mmhm,” he mumbled, rubbing the heels of his palms in his eye sockets and belatedly covering a yawn. “I forgot how exhausting this is.” He moved to sit up, taking Arthur’s hands in his. “I mean, really. The timing of this party could not be worse. I just want to stay in bed all day, not face the masses of our friends and family when I feel like this.”

He stood, stretching in his boxers and loose tee shirt, and felt Arthur’s arms come around his waist from behind, settling snugly below his navel. Arthur buried his nose in the crook of Merlin’s neck, heavily breathing in his scent, humming contentedly in the back of his throat, not quite a growl nor a purr.

“God, what I wouldn’t give to drag you back into that bed and keep you there.” He trailed kisses over Merlin’s neck and shoulder making him shiver. “But,” he sighed, “your mother just called from the bakery with the cake. Morgana and Leon are on their way. I expect Freya and Will can’t be too far behind.” Merlin spun in Arthur’s grasp, eyes wide with astonishment.

“How long was I out?” he gasped.

“Three hours.” Arthur chuckled as he kissed the surprised pout off Merlin’s lips. “I’ve cleaned, decorated, fed the girls and put them down for a nap, and can hear them in their room giggling. We are ready for the party, we just need Daddy to wake up and get dressed before the guests arrive.” Arthur stepped back and swatted lightly at Merlin’s behind to get him moving before disappearing down the hall toward the girls’ room. “Hello my lovelies! Is someone in this room having a birthday?” Merlin heard him say just before he heard the girls squeal and tackle their Papa.

Dressing quickly in the outfit he and Arthur had chosen for the occasion, he covered up in an extra layer of a zippered hoodie to keep off the chill caused by his state. Merlin descended the stairs in time to open the door for Hunith, arms filled with a large gift box with a cake box balanced precariously on top. Grabbing the bundles from her, he leaned forward to give her a smooch on the cheek.

“Hey mum, thanks for picking this up on the way. Arthur is just getting the girls up from their nap and into their party clothes.”

The moment his lips touched her skin Hunith’s eyes widened and, in the way only a mother can, she understood instantly the situation Merlin was in. “Oh, Merlin,” she said softly. He simply gave a tiny shrug and turned to walk into the kitchen. She followed to open the fridge door for him to put the cake away and out to the yard to drop the gifts on the table laid out by Arthur for the party.

His husband had transformed their small garden into a wild vortex of glitter, sparkles, and bright colours. There was a balloon arch creating a bubbly rainbow over the table for the food, already laid out with napkins, cutlery, plates and a stack of cups next to a large bowl of fizzy pink punch. A banner stretched along the garden wall proclaimed that today “Bee and Lee are Three!!” Merlin and his mother stood a moment in stunned silence simply taking it all in.

Seeing Merlin rub a hand firmly over his face, Hunith took his hand in hers. “You could have cancelled, Merlin. We all would have understood.” He frowned slightly before dropping his eyes to meet hers.

“It’s one afternoon. I promise I’ll get through it. Besides”—he smiled as his eyes drifted from her face to the doorway into the house—“you might understand, but they wouldn’t.”

Hunith turned in time to brace herself for the force of her granddaughters’ impactful hugs and shrieks of “Gran!”

“Hey, hey, you two, save some of Gran’s hugs for me!” Arthur chided as he strolled out behind them and wrapped his long arms around the three of them, giggling.

“Arthur, my love.” Hunith beamed up at him from within the tangled embrace. “You’ve done such a lovely job.” He flashed his widest smile at her and basked in her compliment.

“A lovely job, indeed!” Morgana’s voice called from the kitchen. “Shall we drag all of this food out? Freya is on her way in. Will and Leon are attempting to corral the children.” She emerged from the doorway with a platter of fruit in one hand and a platter of tea sandwiches in the other, pausing briefly to offer her cheek to Arthur for a kiss as she passed, and said a quiet, “Hello, brother dearest.”

Once her hands were free she crouched down and held her arms wide. “Free hugs for birthday girls, love Auntie Morgie!” She laughed as the girls dropped Hunith’s skirt and flung themselves at her with wild exuberance. Merlin smiled and joined Arthur in the kitchen to grab the rest of the food trays as a wild herd of boys ran through on their way to the garden followed by their harried looking fathers.

“Will, grab that cooler, would you? Hello, Leon.” Arthur smiled at the two of them, hands too full to do otherwise. “Bags of ice are in the chest freezer, if you don’t mind?” Leon saluted in acknowledgement and detoured to the garage.   
  
“Will, where is your wife?” Merlin asked, glancing down the hallway toward the front door.

Hefting the cooler full of beer and soda bottles, he grunted, “Dropped us off and took the babe to grab a box of nappies. She won’t be a minute.” He waddled out the back door to join the small crowd gathering there.

Before the last of the food and drink were placed around the party, the table for gifts overflowing with prettily wrapped bags and boxes, Freya walked through the door with Gwaine and Elena in tow, Elena carrying the little one to give poor Freya’s back a rest. Hugs and kisses and squeals of pleasure were exchanged all around, especially from Uncle Gwaine who was immediately attacked with bows and baubles for his hair — the twins’ favourite pastime when Gwaine and Elena visit being a rousing game of Hair Salon, as both Papa and Daddy wore their hair short and Auntie Morgie’s tresses were strictly off limits.

As the afternoon progressed and bellies were filled with all sorts of deliciousness, the gaggle of children retreated indoors to watch _The Lion King_ for the eleven billionth time. The men sprawled around one another in lawn chairs discussing football, and the women poked and pinched Freya and Will’s tiny daughter and chatted about the general trials and tribulations of motherhood, much to Elena’s mixed amusement and horror. Percival and Kay arrived late, as they’d another engagement prior to the girls’ party and had said they’d come by for cake and gifts.

Merlin and Arthur busied themselves in the kitchen packing away leftovers and gathering plates and cups for the bin. Merlin leaned on his hands at the edge of the counter top and hung his head for a moment. With a hand pressed gently to the small of his back, Arthur whispered, “Almost over, love. Cake, presents and everyone goes. There is a bubble bath and a massage in your very near future, I promise.” Merlin raised his head at that and smiled. “And I’ve already asked your mum to take the girls for the rest of the weekend—” He was cut off there as Merlin grabbed him by the lapels and kissed his breath away.

“You,” he said, emotion caught in his throat, pressing their foreheads together, “are my very favourite husband.”

Arthur tightened his grip momentarily on Merlin’s hips before he let go and walked away. Merlin called the children to come for pudding and presents as Arthur lit the candles on the cake — half red for Thisbe, half blue for Cybele, three candles per side. The adults in the yard all stood to sing for the girls as Arthur emerged last, holding the cake low for the girls to see and make their wishes before blowing out the candles as the singing ended and applause began. Leon was in charge of cutting and plating, and Gwaine and Will handed out the plates and forks as Arthur and Merlin oversaw the gift opening.

There were Barbies from Morgana and Leon and their brood of boys, as Morgana delighted to have little girls to spoil with her favourite childhood things. Will and Freya and their bunch had given the girls a Play-Doh set which caused Merlin to groan inwardly at the inevitable mess. Gran had bought new play clothes and shoes and pyjama sets for the girls with matching teddies — sensible as always, Merlin appreciated. Morgana had handed Arthur a plain white envelope for the girls from Uther who would not attend a noisy gathering such as this. He nodded at her with a tight smile and slipped it into his pocket without opening it. Gwaine, in true Gwaine fashion, had bought the girls a drum kit each. Arthur glared as Merlin beamed at his mate’s wild choice of gift, much to the amusement of the crowd. Percival and Kay had very sweetly given the girls a 'Day at the Zoo' voucher for the following weekend and promised to buy them each a large plush animal of their choosing from the gift shop at the end of their adventure together. Last came the gifts Merlin and Arthur had bought for their girls.

Arthur took the bag from the table and handed part of its contents to Merlin. They crouched before their daughters, backs to the crowd. “Daddy and I had these made, just for you two,” Arthur said as he and Merlin fastened small gold chains around the necks before them, Thisbe’s pendant engraved with a small moon, Cybele’s with a small sun. “Our little Night and Day, just like us,” he continued, pressing a kiss to each of their little foreheads.

“And,” Merlin carried on where Arthur had left off, gripping his knee for a moment to steady his hands. “Papa and I had these shirts made for you, too. You can match each other, and you can match me too.” The men dropped the shirts over the heads of the girls and helped them get their arms into the sleeves and straighten up for everyone to see. Thisbe’s had a heart which read, Kid #1, and Cybele’s heart read, Kid #2. Everyone aww’d appropriately, and Merlin smiled as he unzipped his hoodie and turned around, hands clasped lightly below the two hearts on his shirt, reading Kid #3 and Kid #4. He and Arthur waited the two seconds it took before Morgana and Freya reacted in unison with an “OH MY GOD!” before Merlin dropped his hands and grinned, revealing a third heart labelled Kid #5.

Pandemonium broke out then as the adults rushed forward over the heads of the group of confused children to hug and congratulate the pair on their rapidly growing family. Arthur blushed at the comments on his virility accompanied by hearty back slaps from the guys, while sheepishly avoiding eye contact with his mother-in-law. Merlin was fussed over and squealed at by the women, who marvelled that he was apparently producing children in litters. Hunith quietly pushed forward and took Merlin’s hands in hers. He looked down into her soft blue eyes, brimming with joyful tears, and fought back his own pregnancy hormone-induced tears. Words were not needed between them. She tightened her grip on his hands quickly before pulling him down into a warm hug.

It took nearly an hour after the announcement for their friends to gather their children and go, leaving Arthur to pack overnight bags for the girls. Hunith made Merlin a cup of tea as he sat, limbs heavy with the exhaustion of early pregnancy, helplessly watching _The Lion King_ with a child tucked under each arm.

“Daddy,” Thisbe asked quietly, patting the hearts on his tummy, “can these babies be all boys? Lee and me don’t want to share our things.” He chuckled quietly and kissed her jet black hair.

“Papa and I don’t get to pick, love. And neither do you.” He tightened his arms, squeezing both girls gently before taking the cup of tea from Hunith. “Thanks Mum.” He laid his free hand over the little one patting the Kid #4 heart. “Besides, little brothers will want to play with all of your things anyway. Those are just the rules of being the littlest. Just ask Auntie Morgie.” His face split into a devilish grin. “She'll tell you Papa stole her things all the time.”

  
~O~

  
Merlin groaned as Arthur helped him lower himself into the tub. “God, that’s good. I want to stay in here forever.”

“But then you’d never get that massage I promised you. Or the entire weekend of blissful sleep that you want.” Arthur smiled as he sponged the warm sudsy water over his husband’s shoulders.

“Can’t I just sleep in the tub while you massage me?” Merlin pouted.

Arthur bent down to kiss his downturned lips and stood to retreat to their bedroom. Merlin watched him through the open door as he laid a thick fluffy towel out across their bed and arranged the bottle of coconut oil in a bowl of hot water to warm and melt on his nightstand. Arthur padded around their room silently on bare feet, lighting candles, smiling now and then as he passed the bathroom door and caught sight of Merlin stretched out in the tub, head thrown back and feet propped next to the faucet. Merlin closed his eyes, but he was aware of Arthur watching him. His fingertips tapped lightly against the lip of the tub, and he hummed quietly to himself.

Arthur returned to their bathroom stripped to his trousers, holding another thick fluffy towel. “Come on, turnip head, before you drown in there.” Merlin begrudgingly cracked open one eye and glared up at him.

“Yes, Sire.”

Arthur cracked a massive grin. “So, it’s going to be _that_ kind of weekend, is it?” Merlin stood, letting the bubbles slip down over his long frame, catching here and there in his body hair. He stepped into Arthur’s arms, outstretched and holding the towel in wait, letting him wrap him up in a fluffy hug and smiled coyly from beneath his lashes.

“That depends on how thorough and deep this promised massage turns out to be,” he said, voice low and full of intent. Arthur growled deep and savage and all but dragged a giggling Merlin to their bed, catching his bottom lip between his teeth before releasing him to fall back onto the mattress.

“I plan on using that entire bottle of oil and not stopping until your. Every. Single. Muscle”—he punctuated each word with a kiss down over Merlin’s throat, crawling onto the bed between his opening thighs—“is putty in my hands, understand?” he asked, resting his hand firmly against Merlin’s rising erection. Biting back a moan he gently pressed his hips upward into Arthur’s grip.

“Yes, _Sire_.”  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and your kind words along the way!! xox


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